JOYCE S. GAMBLE
I Met Myself I met me on the street today and I paused to look at a pensive face, someone worrying over many things—anything. My heart went out to this pitiful and perplexed creature who seemed by habit to have adopted worrying as her best friend. She seemed to already be aware of herself but wanted desperately to change. Knowing that in this mood I might be rejected— and she is perceptive to mood and feeling— I said nothing, for she had heard all the words before. I extended my hand, looked understandingly into her face, smiled and said nothing, for words to her have no meaning. She returned my look and responded as if to say, I needed that. No words necessary. No words exchanged—just a glance.
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