Tears aren't necessarily a sign of weakness. Yes, sometimes, when I am exhausted or ill. Physically weak. But there are tears in my eyes at other times too. When I am touched by a loving gesture, when I hear of someone's bravery, something good that has happened to a deserving person, something bad that has happened to one who didn't deserve it.......the list is long and as I grow older, the list is growing longer.

So what? It's okay to be human, I guess. To participate in the joys and sorrows of other human beings, whether in the flesh or the characters in books.

Long ago I read a poem by, I think, George Herbert. It was about a little girl, Margaret, who cries when the yellow leaves fall. At 14, the poem seemed strange; there were no yellow leaves in my life then. Margaret's identifying with the falling leaves seemed stranger still.

Now, hair graying and the heart learning to cope with the many good-byes of life, I understand Margaret's tears. Leaves turn yellow and fall, and with every falling leaf I am reminded of our uncertainty and mortality. Parents grow older, friends lose touch, children follow their calling away from home......

But from now I hope my tears will be more about beautiful memories and re-unions. I shall learn to weather the sorrows of life and look forward to the joys.