No matter how many times I read Chesterton’s poem, I never expect that last line, ‘Why am I allowed two?’ The line startles me, rouses me awake. I rub my eyes. Yes, I wonder – why am I allowed another day? The question helps me to focus, to really see this ‘great world round me.’ It helps me rediscover my, ‘eyes, ears, hands.’ The line shakes me into astonishment. All these gifts? All this mine? The line brings other questions, ‘Who allowed me into this world?’ ‘What fun might I have with the gift of… Continue reading Why Am I Allowed Two?