Friends of therathai
This page is dedicated to those individuals whose paths I have been blessed to cross in the learning, practice, and teaching of this ancient healing art.
Their shared presence, support, and encouragement has filled me with a deep sense of gratitude - both unexpected and undeserved.
Who Are My People?
By Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni
My people? Who are they?
I went into the church where the congregation worshiped my God.
Were they my people?
I felt no kinship to them as they knelt there.
My people! Where are they?
I went into the land where I was born,
Where men spoke my language…
I was a stranger there.
“My people,” my soul cried.
“Who are my people?”
Last night in the rain I met an old man
Who spoke a language I do not speak,
Which marked him as one who does not know my God.
With an apologetic smile, he offered me the shelter of his patched umbrella.
I met his eyes…
And then I knew…
|