But for what I am
when I am with you.
I love you,
Not only for what
you have made of yourself,
But for what you are making of me.

I love you,
For the part of me
that you bring out.
I love you
For putting your hand
into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
all the foolish weak things
That you can't help
dimly seeing there
And for drawing out into the light
All the beautiful belongings
that no one else had looked
quite far enough to find.

I love you,
Because you are helping me
to make of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern but a temple;
Out of the works of every day
Not a reproach but a song.

I love you
Because you have done
more than any creed
Could have done to make me good
And more than any fate
could have done to make me happy.

You have done it without a touch
Without a word, without a sign.
You have done it by being yourself.
Perhaps that is what being
a friend means after all.


-Roy Croft