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The beggar woman and the rose

By Rainer Maria Rilke there is a little story

said to have happened during the time of his first Paris stay

. Many of them will surely already know.

I really like and think, well worth

suitable for 1 Advent.

Together with a young Frenchwoman Rilke came around noon regularly pass a place where there sat a beggar, which lasted about money. Without looking up any employees each, without expressing a different character of asking or thanking than ever to stretch out the hand, the woman sat always at the same Place. Rilke was never something that his companion was often a coin. One day after surprising the Frenchwoman asked why he was nothing, and Rilke gave her the answer: "We have to give their heart, not her hand." A few days later, Rilke with a newly-blown white rose, placed it in the open, emaciated hand of the beggar and wanted to continue.
Since the unexpected happened: The beggar looked up and saw that the donor, rose with difficulty from the earth, felt the hand of the stranger, they kissed and walked away with the rose.
one week the old man was gone, the place where she had previously pleaded remained empty. Rilke's companion tried in vain to an answer about who would now give the elderly a charity.
was suddenly eight days after the beggar again like earlier in the usual place. She was silent, as then, again showing only their vulnerability at the hands outstretched. "But what she has for all the days when she received nothing but living?" Ask the French. Rilke said, "From the Rose..."


I do not know whether this story really happened, but I'm quite sure that "man does not live by bread alone." "You have to give the heart, not the hand," said Rilke. Learn we did not every day? Human kindness, a kind word, a smile, an encouragement, a sign that tells us: "It's great that you are there" - we all live from the Rose ". So let's give many such "Roses" - not only at Christmas time.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Advent

It drives the wind in the winter woods
The flakes flock like a shepherd,
And some fir guess how soon
you pious and lights sacred is .
And listens out. Because the white
it stretches out the branches And ready
blocked the wind, and grows toward the
a night of glory.

Have a wonderful first Advent Sunday.