Gather Stories to Live By

Let the sea and its fullness thunder,

            the world and those dwelling in it,

        Let the rivers clap hands,

             let the mountains together sing gladly.

                                                                         Ps. 98

            On the brink of autumn, I gather chestnuts and dahlias.  I dig up plants and dust off their root balls to keep them safe in the dark.  In the season of dwindling and fading, I also gather what stories I can — of care and healing, every morsel of a tale I can find for the ongoing life of hope in the face of advancing dark.  Come the empty trees, the ice and snow, they will comfort me.

            The stories I love best are very ordinary stories of ordinary people giving of themselves in ways small and large to enrich the lives of others.  There are those who bring meals to the sick, or offer their table as welcome to the lonely.  Professionals who offer their skills at homeless shelters, retirees who listen to those who have no one else to hear them in all sorts of settings, with patience and without judgment.  Teens who help elders with baffling technologies.  Empty-nesters who read to school children.

Often at this time of year, I go down to the sea, to the edge of my known world.  With my feet in the sand, I think of the great Greek tales of transformation, Persephone and Demeter, Eros and Psyche.  I think of St. Francis and Dorothy Day, and all I know who are bringing hope and help to those in need.  I pray to the cold vastness that when the sun tilts towards spring, new life will bloom in the compost of our common soil.  Then, I go home, light a candle and place it in the window as darkness falls.

• What stories have you heard this season that warm your soul and enable you to believe in the goodness in our midst? How might you add to them?