Every Day’s a Gift

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. 1 Corinthians 1:26 ESV

This morning, I took a friend down for an appointment with her neurologist, because lately she has gotten lost on the way. Since the visit stretched on for an hour and a half, it gave me plenty of time to read, and to observe the many patients streaming in and out of the office. At one point my knees were getting stiff, so I went to the door and as I began to step outside, I noticed a man coming up the walk, trailed by an older gentleman, who I took to be his father. Since I was in the doorway anyway, I held it open, for them, and they both smiled and thanked me, but the older man also apologetically said, “Sorry, but I’m a little slow.” Once they entered, the receptionist had forms for them to fill out and the younger one, pulled out a bag full of prescription bottles and proceeded to make sure they were the same as those already printed out on the form. Then, apparently that being the only purpose of their visit, after they finished the paperwork, and answered a few questions, they turned and headed towards the door. Again, the older man trailed far behind, shuffling a bit with his feet. “Have a good day,” I said as they passed.

Not expecting anything else to be said, I turned back to reading the day’s news on my phone, but as the older man reached for the door, he turned, flashed a smile towards me and said,

Remember, every day’s a gift!”.

As they headed home, I realized that, while most of us had seen this man with sympathy, but few could see how aware he was of his position in life. Once he could have sprinted up the walk, flung open the door and been the one helping others to their seats. But now, hobbled by years, and a body that no longer cooperated with him he bravely was entering a new and challenging chapter in life. But in his weakness, he had recognized grace and saw that grace could help in his weakest state. He had come to recognize that God was over it all, and as firmly in control as He has ever been. He had seen that, life is a gift, and in fact, all that God had done was a gift, from creation to the Cross. God planted the garden, then gave it to man. God created Eve and presented her to Adam. God even feeds the birds he created and gave them songs to cheer us. He sent His only Son, then gave His most precious gift of all, the blood of Jesus Christ for our sins. And right now, God offers a much overlooked and amazing gift. God’s gift is for Muslims and Hindus, for pastors and paper boys, for children and especially for one man who can only shuffle up the walkway to his doctor’s office. He has found that while he can no longer work, play baseball, or even drive his own car, he can be grateful and give a smile to me and say, “Remember, every day’s a gift!”

Before I Knew Him There

I did my best to visit but
Her memory was thin
And she kept asking if I knew
When she’d go home again

“What difference can I make?”
I asked and slumped down in my chair
“In just an hour or so she will
Not know that I was there”

So, I slipped out of the doorway
Hoping that perhaps I’d find
The answers to the questions
Parading through my mind

After I walked a mile the rain
Began to fall and I
Started looking for a shelter
Underneath a tree nearby

There clinging to its highest branch
Stood a cardinal and he
When he saw me started singing
In his cheery joyful glee

And His melodies brought memories
Like echoes from a well
Reminding me of promises
That I only knew too well

Of my Savior and His passion
And the cross He chose to bear
To pay the price so high and deep
Before I knew Him there

"… to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God."
Ephesians 3:18b-19 NIV


Before I Knew Him There
by Peter Caligiuri
Copyright © 2025 All rights reserved

I am dedicating this poem to the memory of my precious stepmom Amy, (pictured in the feature photo with my dad.) Amy battled Parkinson’s Disease for the last 6 years of her life and passed away in 2004. Though the scene in “Before I Knew Him There” is an imaginary composite, it is one that I see a bit of every week as I visit in the memory care wing of a local facility. I also dedicate this little poem to all those whose loved ones are passing through the veil of memory loss, or who are perhaps beginning that journey themselves.