A THANKSGIVING PRAYER
THE HOLIDAY BRIDGE
The holidays are falling over the city in a blanket of holiday trees and blinking lights.
Bells are ringing out for the needy hoping to be heard.
Embraced by the sights and sounds of the season I thought of the advocates and workers who have dedicated their lives to helping people with mental illnesses.
I saw them as they are; people from all walks of life with their hands joined in a just and common cause.
In a vision of many colors and details, I could see they were building a bridge. It was a beautiful bridge, finely designed and engineered with the best of intentions, dedication and hope. There were many people at work; everyone who came to the work of the bridge had a different but necessary gift or trade.
No one’s gift was insignificant or diminished in any way by a mental illness.
I wondered “What if all of us had the same skills or talents?” The bridge would never be built. In the light of the bridge building, advocates were welcoming the workers; others were bringing the gifts of laughter and smiles that lightened everyone’s work. Many people living with mental illnesses were working on the bridge knowing that it cannot stand without them.
The rivets that held the work together were made out of the promise of a new day; the strength of the bridge was in its finest details and the efforts of many hands.
Everyone who came to the building of the bridge brought gifts of light and unique beauty but the brightest lights on the bridge came from the hands of the workers who thought no one had noticed their gifts.
When the bridge is done, it will span the distance between darkness and daybreak. It will illuminate the night sky where stigma and discrimination still have their hold.
People will cross from one side of the bridge to the other; the generosity of the builders will show them the way. They will find courage, perseverance and the hope from which the plans of the bridge were drawn.
As I walked around the vision of the bridge and its exquisite details I could see that it has already been built in Heaven.
I saw the workers and advocates, especially the weary ones, and the gifts they brought to the bridge.
They were not ordinary gifts packaged in paper or wrapped up with ribbons; they were gifts of their finest work, freely given in the hope of a better day.
The light and beauty of the bridge are gifts for all seasons.
Through the advocates, I can see that the greatest gifts we have to give are not holiday trees or the blinking lights of a passing season; they are the steady lights of our finest works, unblended hope and the vision of a better day for all of us.
Peggy J. Symons © Copyright