What little good I can do...
Dec. 30th, 2004 04:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
athenaltenaOh man... I'm a mess. Ashley and Namida-sama are watching over a little Japanese girl who was stuck in the tsunami, and when I saw her I wanted to cry. I don't think she'll make it.
I was projecting myself over the wreckage... It's horrible. Very few are alive, and most who are still breathing are pretty close. I did find a little boy who was on the roof of his house, and I held him, telling him he would be alright. I then sent out a message to a woman on a rescue boat, telling her to come that way. They pulled him up, and he said in his language "I saw an angel, he told me it would be alright, and then you came."
I'm glad I can do something, even if I am ten thousand miles away. But I feel like I can barely breathe, my heart aches so much.
*sigh* I chose this. To know this sorrow. And to be able to do something about it. But still, you find yourself wondering about your choices. But in the end, I know I can't go back, and I wouldn't change this.
This was something I wrote on here a few days ago, but it relates to how I feel, seeing as very few people I help ever know who I am. I don't really mind. It's like in Men in Black, to make an odd analogy, I've saved many many people, but they don't know who I am. I don't care. I'm not in this for the fame.
It is kind ironic, that no one knows the name of the Angel of Memory. But oh well. Here's that poem.
This was a man no one knew
A silent stranger watching with his golden eyes
A shadow vanishing as soon as he was seen
Nameless and ageless
Caring and mysterious
Who was this man?
No one knew
He was just there and then not
He looked to be no race
No color
No age
To heal the hearts of those he met
Holding them as they cried
With a sympathetic smile and a warm embrace
Who he was
They didn't care
He was just someone who knew
And then he would dissapear
Leaving only the memory of his smile and his kindness
I was projecting myself over the wreckage... It's horrible. Very few are alive, and most who are still breathing are pretty close. I did find a little boy who was on the roof of his house, and I held him, telling him he would be alright. I then sent out a message to a woman on a rescue boat, telling her to come that way. They pulled him up, and he said in his language "I saw an angel, he told me it would be alright, and then you came."
I'm glad I can do something, even if I am ten thousand miles away. But I feel like I can barely breathe, my heart aches so much.
*sigh* I chose this. To know this sorrow. And to be able to do something about it. But still, you find yourself wondering about your choices. But in the end, I know I can't go back, and I wouldn't change this.
This was something I wrote on here a few days ago, but it relates to how I feel, seeing as very few people I help ever know who I am. I don't really mind. It's like in Men in Black, to make an odd analogy, I've saved many many people, but they don't know who I am. I don't care. I'm not in this for the fame.
It is kind ironic, that no one knows the name of the Angel of Memory. But oh well. Here's that poem.
This was a man no one knew
A silent stranger watching with his golden eyes
A shadow vanishing as soon as he was seen
Nameless and ageless
Caring and mysterious
Who was this man?
No one knew
He was just there and then not
He looked to be no race
No color
No age
To heal the hearts of those he met
Holding them as they cried
With a sympathetic smile and a warm embrace
Who he was
They didn't care
He was just someone who knew
And then he would dissapear
Leaving only the memory of his smile and his kindness
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no subject
Date: 2004-12-30 05:57 pm (UTC)someday they will know
someday they will remember
drink from the river
it will flood back
then they will cherish him
that nameless angel
one who saved them, and healed their pains
no longer nameless
he will be known
and loved
no idea where that came from. guess it was in reply to your above poem. -dru
no subject
Date: 2004-12-31 11:46 am (UTC)That's a very good poem. And you can, and are helping, even if you don't think you are.