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member, Human Development and Harmony Cluster, Pamayanang SanibLakas ng Pilipinas
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Holistic appreciation and treatment of the physical systems of the body Holistic appreciation, care and treatment of physical, mental, emotional, psychological, psychic and spiritual health Holistic appreciation, study and application of various modalities of health care and of medicine Holistic appreciation of synergies among various roles of healers and care-givers in an effort centered on empowered patients.
1. Total Human Development and Harmony Through Synergism 2. Holistic Health Care and Medicine 3. Deep Ecology and Harmony with Nature 4. Sense of History and Sense of Mission 5. Civics and Democratic Governance 6. Culture as Community Creativity 7. Light-Seeking and Light-Sharing Education 8. Gender Sensitivity, Equality & Harmony 9. Reconstructive/Restor-ative Justice 10. Associative Economics, Social Capital and Sustainable Development 11. Synergetic Leadership and Organizations 12. Appropriate/Adaptive Technology 13. Mutual Enrichment of Families and Friendships 14. Human Dignity and Human Harmony: Human Rights and Peace 15. Aesthetics Without Boundaries: 'Art from the Heart' . |
An Old Lady’s Poem * 'Anonymous' This item has been circulating among e-mail groups, and found its way to our on-line library as shared by Mr. Jan Duque of the ateneo70 e-mail list group. WHEN AN OLD LADY DIED in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was felt that she had nothing left of any value. Later, as the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so moved the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this “anonymous” poem winging across the Internet. Remember this poem when you next meet an old person whom you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within...we will one day be there, too!
What do you see, nurses, what do you see? What are you thinking when you’re looking at me? A crabby old woman, not very wise, Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes? Who dribbles her food and makes no reply When you say in a loud voice, “I do wish you’d try!” Who seems not to notice the things that you do, And forever is losing a stocking or shoe..... Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will, With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill... Is that what you’re thinking? Is that what you see? Then open your eyes, nurse; you’re not looking at me. I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still, As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will. I’m a small child of ten...with a father and mother, Brothers and sisters, who love one another. A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet, Dreaming that soon a lover she’ll meet. A bride soon at twenty — my heart gives a leap, Remembering the vows that I promised to keep. At twenty-five now, I have young of my own, Who need me to guide and a secure happy home. A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast, bound to each other with ties that should last. At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone, But my man’s beside me to see I don’t mourn. At fifty once more, babies play round my knee, Again we know children, my loved one and me. Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead; I look at the future, I shudder with dread. For my young are all rearing young of their own, And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known. I’m now an old woman...and nature is cruel; ’Tis jest to make old age look like a fool. The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart, There is now a stone where I once had a heart. But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells, And now and again my battered heart swells. I remember the joys, I remember the pain, And I’m loving and living life over again. I think of the years...all too few, gone too fast, And accept the stark fact that nothing can last. So open your eyes, people, open and see,
Not a crabby old woman; look closer...
NOTES: Subhead
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