Once a man of old age sat beside me and spoke,

And I listened and nodded polite.

He spoke of a difficult life long ago,

Days of hard work and hardship and strife.

He told me how little they had to get by,

T'was a meager existence at best.

But I noticed that although his story was sad,

The look on his face did attest.

That his memories did not bring sadness, but joy.

So I stopped him and questioned him, why.

He looked quite surprised, but then smiling he said,

"Tis an odd thing I will not deny.

Although life in that day was a difficult road,

And we struggled each day for bare needs.

Yet from it we learned that which cannot be bought.

All in all…I recall…We Were Happy".

Then he smiled and spoke on, but my mind followed not.

For it fixed upon what he had said.

And I questioned myself, "How could such a thing be?

From so little…is happiness bred?"

So I sat searching out cross the days of my time,

And I sifted through memories untold.

And I could not declare, "We Were Happy" despite

Holding all whereby "Happy" is sold.

So in trance I did sit, til his stand broke my stare,

And he thanked me for lending him ear.

But before he could part, I looked deep in his eyes,

T'was a light and a peace that was clear.

As I watched him walk off…came a whisper inside,

And a calm rested over my heart.

"You choose your own fate, whether happy or sad.

Will you choose to make now a new start?"

…Jeff Bresee

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