Only a Cup of Tea
It was only a cup of tea,
but someone else, my neighbor,
made it for me when I was sick,
and brought it to me.
It was the herb estafiate
picked high in these mountains
by her housekeeper Rosi’s brother.
It was only a cup of tea,
though the cure
was deeper than the medicine.
Unasked, a gift from another
who saw me, who cared,
I was alone
in my new country, unwell,
wondering what might unfold,
too green to have found a doctor,
or to have turned in my history
at the Red Cross ambulance post,
or to have signed up
for the national insurance.
It was only a cup of tea,
my condition not acute,
and I was already out of bed.
But when she brought it,
when she sat with me
and when I sipped it,
all the kindness in the world
flowed down my throat
and poured its healing into me. ©Susa Silvermarie 2017
gracias a mi vecina Martha
Hi Susa
I hope you’re well now. I liked your poem about the cup of tea..Did you get the birthday card I sent? Did it take long to get there? We are all well here.
Love
Your big sister
Annie
Marta will soon realize what a gem she has let into her life, if she doesn’t know already.
What a wonderful poem and way to express gratitude for a simple yet powerful act of kindness. Hope you’re completely well now.
How lucky we are to be able to dip into another culture/world when we speak another language. It opens so many doors. Much love and kind thoughts, Joy x
Glad to hear that a “Cup of tea” was put before you, dear sister. I am so grateful it was so healing, for you and certainly for all of us who benefitted from you receiving. My internet was down for a few days but loved getting your voice mail and hope we can talk soon. Mi casa es su casa!
xoxoxo
Rrrrro