Είδα αυτό το απόσπασμα σε ένα βιβλίο του Henri Nouwen "Out of Solitude: Three Meditations on the Christian Life", και μου άρεσε πολύ. Μάλλον θα το αφιερώσω στον αδελφό μου που έχει μανία να δίνει συνεχώς συμβουλές σε όλους ανεξάρτητα αν θέλουν να τις ακούσουν ή όχι, με το ζόρι. Το βιβλίο μάλλον δεν θα το διαβάσω όμως...
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.