I have this poem on an old creased piece of notepaper, written out for me in my friend Mike’s very distinctive handwriting. It’s one of my most precious possessions. He sent it to me when we were new friends, long before I was heartbroken or frustrated or jaded. Long before I had known abiding love, great accomplishment, quiet peace. I come back to it every so often for a reminder of his kind gift and our long friendship. I love him because he reminds me to be gentle with myself and to strive to be happy.