The way we live each day ultimately makes up the life we live and the people we become. The poem below is one of my favourites relating to this. The poem was written by Mary Ann Evans (under the pseudonym George Eliot). Sometimes when I want to reflect about a day gone by, I read it. I hope others will also enjoy it and take to heart its message.
Count That Day Lost by George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans):
If you sit down at set of sun
And count the acts that you have done,
And, counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word
That eased the heart of him who heard,
One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went –
Then you may count that day well spent.
But if, through all the livelong day,
You’ve cheered no heart, by yea or nay –
If, through it all
You’ve nothing done that you can trace
That brought the sunshine to one face –
No act most small
That helped some soul and nothing cost –
Then count that day as worse than lost.