“Who could be so lucky?  Who comes to a lake for water and sees the reflection of moon?”

— Jalal ad-Din Rumi

Last night I had the pleasure of talking with a beautiful woman.  She is one of those remarkable people who sees a need and opens her heart to the opportunity to restore the life of another person.  Her sister has become disabled and needs help in managing her life — the sort of help that will be ongoing and require a life-long commitment.  As though this were not enough, her sister comes as a package deal with a teenage daughter.  As one who has blended two families myself, I know that the simple decision to add a family unit into a household where one already exists is anything but simple.  In the midst of it all, what shines through any problem solving or frustration is the commitment to love that continues to drive this woman to do the impossible; and instead of worrying about her own lack of sleep or the many demands of caring for her newly extended family she searches her heart for ways to teach compassion to a teenager who struggles with all the changes in her life, her friends, her family, and her mother.
It is no secret that I am a big fan of the moon.  I love the way she sits silently in the dark night sky and reflects the sun’s light, reassuring us that even in the blackest night we are not alone.  Just as beautiful as the moon is this woman who reflects the Love of God in all that she does, offering assurance to her entire blended family that they are not alone and that love will prevail.  All the tasks she performs are important.  All the things she does each day to see that everyone’s needs are met are vital to the lives of the people she loves; but what makes her work extraordinary is the way she shines through it all as though it takes no effort to do the impossible.
I want to tell her, and to remind myself as well, that in the end she will not have to worry about teaching compassion to her children.  They are watching her live it right before their eyes; and no amount of explanation could speak as loudly as her example.  I want to tell her that her newly inherited teenager has come to the lake because she is thirsty — she is driven by very practical needs to accept the changes in her life.  What is beautiful is that while she quenches her thirst, she cannot help but see the reflection of the moon on the water.  Sometimes the gift lies not only in what we do, but in how we do it.  We must remember that there is no need to create light to dispel darkness.  All we need to do is dust away our fears and let our mirrors shine with the Love of God.