This poem; A Life for a Life by Dinah Mulock was given to me by my mother on a day that I felt no one understood me and especially not my mom. She put this under my pillow and I have been grateful ever since.
Oh, the comfort —
the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person —
having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words,
but pouring them all right out,
just as they are,
chaff and grain together;
certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them,
keep what is worth keeping,
and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.
