Cured of Cancer

I see a woman, she falls against the glass shopfront to a vacant premises, her shoulder clatters and shakes the panel, she bursts into a cry, pulls her coat over her head and sobs with reverberation. There is a younger woman, possibly the daughter who throws her arms around her weeping mother and I hear her say in a thick Glaswegian accent “It’s alright, it’s alright!”. The mother’s cry morphs into gasps of jubilation like she has found new breath. She pulls away from the glass and begins to laugh in tender relief.

The two walk on and walk on they do for next door is a Breast Screening Clinic and the news must have been good. The pavement her feet will touch from here on in will spring with the joy of bunnies I do believe.

Imagine if we went about each new day as if we’d been told we had just been cured of cancer. Would we plant bombs or would we plant trees? Would we seek revenge or the goodness in people?

Time is that precious stone we must all unearth, for if we value it for ourselves, then we value it for others – I do believe.

Glasgow
31st May 2017