The road is long...

With many a winding turn

That leads us to who knows where, who knows where
But I'm strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

Omaha, Nebraska... . Boys Town... Founded in 1917...   a place where troubled, and or homeless boys could go for help.  Legend has it, around 1918, Father Edward Flanagan saw a boy, Reuban Granger, carrying another boy, Howard Loomis, who wore leg braces, up some stairs. Flanagan asked Granger if carrying Loomis was hard. The boy replied, “He ain't heavy, Father, he's my' brother.”

Reuban was one of many boys that would assist Howard during that time.

… So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We'll get there

… For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

… If I'm laden at all
I'm laden with sadness 
That everyone's heart
Isn't filled with the gladness
Of love for one another

In my outs and abouts of late, I have witnessed  SO MANY instances of 'he ain't heavy, he's my brother' (or mate, mom, dad, daughter, son, cousin, grandma, grandpa, good friend, et al) pushing a wheelchair, lending an arm, any, every form of assistance possible.  I'm sure you've witnessed as well... in fact, maybe you're one of the good hearts - or, perhaps you're on the receiving end of a good heart.

… It's a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we're on the way to there
Why not share?

Try as we might, as a nation, to propel, exemplify, kindness, love - the big picture, overview, tags a nation of discourse, probably not fair, but, probably - when others look at our Country, it's what is front and center in their beliefs.

… And the load
Doesn't weigh me down at all
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

Thankfully, when you ZOOM in on that big picture, there are so very many examples of "He ain't heavy, he's my brother."  There's little doubt, as we look around, we've witnessed family, friends, coworkers, classmates, etc - who carry that 'he ain't heavy' load of their loved one.  You know it's gotta be heavy, but, the givers, doers, wheelchair pushers never let on of any burden.  It's their wish, their gift, their expression of love and thanks.

Many, many in need...  afflictions, addictions..memory, mental and physical disabilities.. any number of reasons a person simply can't go it on their own.  Others step in.  Or, have been there for'eer and 'e'er.  We've all heard the story of the mate who comes daily to the memory unit to visit their partner... a casual observer asks "Why do you keep coming, he/she doesn't remember you?".. "Oh, but I remember he/she".. 

… He's my brother
He ain't heavy, he's my brother
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

Ends.  Sometimes, ends just ain't much fun.  To all those who push the wheelchair, help to put on socks, underwear, shirt, pants, feed, bathe.  Those who read, play music, sing, dance, converse... wing smiles... maybe even just sit beside for hours. Don't you ever second guess yourselves on "I wish I could do, have done, more." That, is heavy, and fer sure unwarranted.  You are amazing.

Bless you for the escort on the long road.

Thanks, to all the Reuban Grangers, who, task by task, touch by touch, word by word, step by step, stroke by stroke, paint the Big Picture of Love.