The Song
Our streets were filled with trash. If we came across something we did not like, we threw it out the door or tossed it through a window. Pizza boxes, broken dishes, and unfashionable clothes covered our lawns. Broken dishwashers and two-legged chairs crowded the sidewalk. When visitors came to town, their jaws dropped as they walked through the shadows of our garbage-but we had been living this way for so long that we could not see the problem. They tried to reason with us but we ignored them. We did not like being bossed around. Nobody could make us listen until one day our new mayor turned to music. She knew that, like a melody, a law succeeds only if it reaches the heart. She asked if we would like to see our lawns again and we said yes, that would be nice. She asked if we would like to walk down the sidewalk without stubbing our toes and we cheered. These days we put things in black plastic bags and sort our papers from our glass, and we do it cheerfully as if humming a favorite song.
Consider the desires of those around you. Seek similarities rather than differences. Compassion is more effective than persuasion.
(It's been a year since Renee left this earth but it feels so much longer. I think of her every time I put the key in my mail slot and just as it squeaks open I know that there will be no mail from her. She was such a kind and generous person and I didn't think I would miss her as much as I do. I hope that Heaven exists because I know she felt destined to reach it.)
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