Poem: I Can Wash My Hands

By Kaitlyn Lapsa



Today I can’t receive the Eucharist, but I can wash my hands.


I can wash my hands, outstretched and open to cleansing waters.


I can wash my hands, welcoming the time to pause and choosing to nourish myself with love over fear.


I can wash my hands, holding the most vulnerable among us both in prayer and concrete action.


I can wash my hands, knowing the power of participating in a collective act of loving care and protection.


I can wash my hands, following the One who washes my feet.


Today I can’t receive the Eucharist, but I can wash my hands.

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