The ancient Chinese philosopher/poet Brian Hu said that love is a blessing, not from the ill-logical gods, but from one’s self, for the gods know nothing about valuing. And so, as Brian Hu went walking on this simple path, he came upon an elderly woman who was sitting in a chair in her backyard reading poetry very softly. She was reading so softly that he could not always discern her speech from the light brushing of leaves in the wind.

He came up closely to the side of her, and lo! She was reading his own poems! Tears poured down his cheeks! And then he blessed her, he blessed himself, he blessed the love he felt for her. And then, upon his knees, he spoke to her. “My dear, you read beautifully.”

She turned, a little startled, and said, “Sir, what are you doing on your knees?” He replied, “You are reading my poetry, it was quite natural that I should worship.”

“Oh, are these yours? They are Beautiful. I love them.” He asked, “Do you believe in love?” “Oh, only for the young. I am too old for love.” To this he said, with growing intensity, “Really? You really, really, really think so?”

“Oh, yes. The years ahead of me are not so many. It is too late to find love now.” Brian Hu gently took the book out of her small brown hands and began reading. “In word and phrase and rhyme Love lives always sublime in hearts that know no time.”

“That is beautiful,” she said. “For whom did you write it?”

He looked up from the book straight into her eyes and said, “For you, just now, did I compose these lines. For when I heard you read, I was inspired.”

Tears sprang in her eyes and She said, “Yes. I believe you. Yes, I am still alive. And you are too. That is all that counts.”

“Yes,” said Brian Hu, “that is all that counts.”