Gratitude

I love you
not because I learned to tell you so,
not because my heart suggests these words to me,
not so much because faith
makes me believe that you are love,
not even for the sole reason that
you died for me.

I love you
because you entered into my life
more than the air in my lungs,
more than the blood in my veins.
You entered
where no one could enter
when no one could help me
every single time no one
could console me.

Each day I have spoken to you.
Each hour I have looked to you
and in your face
I read the answer,
in your words
the explanation,
in your love
the solution.

I love you
because for so many years
you have lived with me
and I
have lived of You.
I drank from your law
and I did not realize it.

I nourished myself on it,
gathered strength,
I was restored,
but I was unaware
like a child suckling at its mother’s breast
but not yet knowing how to call her
with that sweet name.

Let me be grateful
— at least a little —
in the time that is left to me
for the love
you have poured upon me
and that has compelled me
to tell you:
I love you.

Chiara Lubich

“Essential Writings”, New City Press, New York 2007, pp132-133.