El amor todo lo *

       Love. Oh me. Men have died for it. Women have lied for it. Billions sigh for it and countless songs, stories and poems have been written about it. Greece fought a war because of it and it’s behind every marriage, and its lack every divorce.
 
       All for Love? So what is love? It is not food for the hungry, or drink for the thirsty. It will not knit the broken bone or give rest to the overworked. It isn’t a drug for the suffering, and yet, today, right now, there are people giving up their hold on life and slowly dying for the lack of it.
 
       Love is the T.L.C. prescribed for children. So important that every child in any hospital is actually scheduled to be tenderly held, fondled and played with, in addition to the routine times the child is also scheduled to be fed, bathed and otherwise attended.  And is the reason that some ‘qualified’ visitor is asked, if they have time, to hold and caress children whose parents are from out-of-State, or otherwise unable to make frequent visits.  Been there, and done that. T. Y. G.
 
       It is the magic that changes homes for the aged from dull, lifeless places where, so often, men and women sit silently and dully in empty rooms, waiting for their lives to pass. Yes, it changes them into homes (no more affluent) of quiet activity, alert eyes, contentment and days that are lived. Not just endured.
 
       Love, Every civilization, culture, people or tribe from earliest times until now, have recognized its strength and made rules and provisions for it. Oddly enough, too, the more ‘un-modern’ the culture, the better their over all concept of love has been.
 
       Only in modern America has love become synonymous with sex. Other environments recognize and explore the other aspects as well; the mother playing with her children, the grandparent caressing the infant, listening to the child’s woes, or giving cautious monetary aid to the college student who is always short of cash. Are these not also love?

       Yes, and there’s the often forgotten taken-for-granted, love of the parish priest or local bishop for their flock. Only those close-by could know of the countless hours that are cheerfully, thankfully given. Hours whose very numbers make the task seem impossible. And it would be, too, if it weren’t for love.
 
       No, love is not food for the hungry or drink for the thirsty. It cannot be put under a microscope, analyzed and then prescribed for a broken body or diseased mind. But yet . . . 
       It is both food and drink for the Soul. It is rest for the overburdened and new energy to the sorrowing. the bored and the listless. It has given more peace than all the tranquilizers ever made, and brought a shine and glow to tired eyes and faces. It is the magic medicine that every doctor in the world wishes he could patent, bottle and prescribe for his patients.
 
       Love. That most tender of emotions. With it, life and the world is a happy place to be. Without it, life loses its savor, its ability to revitalize itself. and dies. Yes, that’s how vital love is.               
 
       It will soon be Valentine’s day. Give all the love you can, and of all varieties you can find.  See, I’m not knocking Eros one bit, but take time to remember Agape as well.

*  Love conquers all