When you don't know me,
my life seems peaceful.
I have a good house,
a good job.
Children who love me.
When you don't know me,
you see the bread I bake,
the quilts I make.
You see my knitting,
cooking, gardening,
hiking, praying,
teaching, hoping,
believing.
And you are jealous.
But you don't see
what lies beneath.
The tossing and turning
when I should sleep.
The nightmares that come
in night or day.
You don't see heartache
that never goes away
under the smile I
paint on for you.
You see all the pain
of your life,
and think that mine
must be much better
because I have learned
to smile when I want to cry.
Comfort when I want to be comforted.
You don't see how
my loneliness cannot find
what compassion creates.
How I have learned to hope,
when hope is darkest,
laugh when there is nothing funny
in life.
If you knew me,
you would see
the real things I have
accomplished.
How, when I despair,
I seek someone who needs
a hug.
When I ache,
I find another's wound
to bind.
And, pray for better
when I despair
of ever finding joy.
