there was a woman
who loved
and loved
and loved
"Why does she love me?"
some wondered
for they had been told by others
that they were unlovable
yet she loved them
somehow
Why did she love?
Wrong
some called such love
shameful, even
for she loved the poor
the criminal
the unclean
the friendless
Why did she love us?
Maybe we will never know
for she could not stay
that woman who loved
and loved
and loved
passed away
last Fourth of July
Why did she love me?
Why did she stand beside me and squeeze my hand
when I was friendless and alone?
Why did she defend me
when others shamed me?
Why did she smile and hug and welcome me like family
while others stood by and scoffed and lied and waited to crucify?
Why did she love me?
Unlovable
I am
once more
Unlovable
I am
to those who knew her well
Unlovable
I am
to those who loved her
Or am I?
Can one who knew her well
miss the reason she loved
everyone?
Can one who truly loved her
let her love die?
Would they not know how it would grieve her
to live as they do?
Would they not have filled their hearts up with the love she offered them
and never, ever let it die
if their love were real and true and faithful?
She loved me
and you disgrace her
because you let her love die
Why did she love me?
Because she knew she had been loved
and she filled herself up to overflowing with His Love
so that all would know
the great love she had been shown
though ever unworthy she often felt
He Loved her
and she honored Him
she never let one pass her by without telling them, showing them how He Loved
Why do you not love with her love?
I know that she loved you
no less than she loved me
but you turn and walk away
and those who never met her
do not know
how she loved you
how she would have loved them
though ever unworthy
You disgrace her
"Many called her beautiful
for the way she dressed,
the way she smiled,
the way she danced—
merely the way she looked.
But that she reached to cool My forehead when I was sick,
that she said a kind word when I was discouraged,
that she hugged Me when I cried,
that she loved Me—
I thought that was most beautiful of all.
Great men of the times
rose up and called her great
because of things she had done
or said—
mere accomplishments and wise words,
the world acclaimed.
But that she took My hand when I was afraid,
that she stood by Me when I was alone,
that she was not a mere fair weather friend,
that she loved Me—
I thought that was greatest of all.
Many loved her
for so very many reasons they often liked to say,
and talk of,
and praise—
and wonderful
were the things they listed.
But that she asked nothing,
that she awaited no gift,
that she demanded no merit when I was poor and friendless and weary of trying,
that she loved Me—
I loved that most of all.
And she still looks beautiful
and they still say great things
and there are many who love her
but now there is fear in her eyes—
for now she stands before the Throne
and the things of earth are but a peasant's cloak, a pauper's disguise.
But then I step forward
and take her hand
and smile
and say, simply,
'She loved Me.'
'But Lord . . . when did I do these things—
Lord, when were You sick,
or discouraged,
when did I hold You in my arms while You cried?'
she exclaimed
in surprise.
And I replied,
'When you did it for your child,
for a stranger,
for one who could give nothing in return—
it was then you loved Me.'
And many call her beautiful
and many call her great
and many love her for the things she said and did
and I know she will not be forgotten—
but remember most of all,
remember how she loved.
Remember how she asked nothing,
how she awaited no gift,
how she demanded no merit from the poor and friendless and weary of failing—
remember that she loved Me,
remember that she loved Me."
Matthew 25:31-46
'She Loved Me' — For Sono Sato Harris
