Pottie Poet

This Friday, I met a sister that connects with both my Spirit and my heart.

At the Big E, the ladies rooms are kept by attendants who clean, decorate and stock them from their own pockets... for tips they receive. With my IC/PBS, I need to go -- often! So I tend to hit practically every rest room there. One is filled with Halloween decorations, others are beautified with flowers and scents. Another is managed and maintained with military precision.

One... took my heart away.

The walls, both inside and outside the stalls, are covered with hand-written poetry, sweet simple lyrics reminding us to flush and help keep the place neat. Each was signed, "The Pottie Poet." Any of these lines would be a breeze to tweet, even from a bathroom seat.

Each time I went in to... well you know, I would sit a moment and listen to the lines she belted out non-stop all day. Every third or forth rhyme she shared was a Blessing. I was touched and moved.

In the Northeastern US, too often we avoid mentioning the word "God" in public, in our attempt not to offend anyone who may not believe as we do. Here in a very public place, where we take turns in mostly private stalls, was a woman sharing it with all the Joy in her heart.

Each time I left that restroom,

To continue with my day,

I gave her a hug and a rhyme:

God Bless the Pottie Poet I pray.

~ESA

PS: For those in New England (or the Northeast) who attend the Big E, she's in the Better Living building. :D

PPS: A little bird tipped off the news crews, who shared the story and their views. Please see this link.

Images: Top from Improbable Research and bottom from VinceHuston.org