The Gleaning: A meditation on our times

May this not be a time of hoarding. May this not be a time soaked with fear. May we not turn into our respective houses and hearts and close the door. May we not take the last of anything. May we instead leave a gleaning, and then some, for those who need it. May we consider the edges of our field. May this be a time we look for the day laborers unlikely to receive assistance. May this be a time we make sure to give to the man on the corner. May we consider our neighbor who doesn’t drive and could not get emergency supplies. May we remember the artists, the musicians, the nannies whose funds will run dry. May corporations care more about their employees than their bottom lines. May we send cards. May we pick up the phone. Send out heartfelt prayers. May our caregivers and healthcare professionals be blessed with courage and wisdom. May we risk our own livelihoods, but never the lives of others. May we love more and not less. May we participate in a great turning outward. May we remember those who could not gather. Though we cannot hold hands, may we reach out: our hearts, our words, our wheat. May we look back on this time and remember: this was not the time we shut down. This was the time we opened.

Alexandra Donovan | March 13, 2020

Gleaning by Arthur Hughes

Gleaning by Arthur Hughes