“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch,
A smile, a kind word, a listening ear,
Or the smallest act of kindness,
All of which have the potential to turn a life around.”
Leo Buscaglia
A dark, stormy morning
And, what should I see
A very tiny white furball
Peering mournfully at me
I open up my front door
And he rushes right inside
He’s shivering, and scared
Under a chair, he does hide
I pick him up very gently
And I begin to towel him dry
He squeaks, and he licks my face
The fear begins to leave his tiny eyes
I soon scan his little blue collar
It contains a phone number I call
I leave a message that I have a guest
He goes exploring and finds a little ball
In the midst of our brand new game of fetch
He discovers that several cats are watching us
He excitedly chases after them, hoping to play
They want no part of him, and rush off in a huff
And now, he finds their water bowl and cat dishes
He drinks and he eats, and then jumps up on my lap
He has decided that he likes his refuge from the storm
Soon, his tiny little eyes close, and he takes a little nap
His family finally calls me back, late in the afternoon
He had run off from home in a panic, hearing thunder
As they happily collect him, he gives me a tiny wet kiss
And why he picked my front door, I shall always wonder
Too often we underestimate the power of a touch,
A smile, a kind word, a listening ear,
Or the smallest act of kindness,
Which can alleviate another being’s fear.
©2010, Mr. Ed
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