The Ordinary Saints

There are people who hold doors

for strangers they'll never see again.

Who leave the last of the coffee

and start a fresh pot

before anyone asks.

Who remember your mother's name,

your difficult year,

the exact thing you needed to hear

in an email you thought

nobody read.

They are not famous.

They do not tweet about their goodness.

They just keep showing up

with small kindnesses

stacked so quietly

you almost miss them—

but you don't.

You carry them for years.