From what we get, we can make a living; what we give, however, makes a life.

- Arthur Ashe

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Absorbed in the manifold and numberless activities of this world, O my Lord, I may not forget Thy sweet remembrance.

        Many a man is waiting with wreaths of tears in his melancholy eyes; yet others there are whose hearts are throbbing with silent beats of agony.  Give me, my Lord, the joy of sharing their miseries surely to lead them on to Thy door.

        The fallen deriving strength gets up and the stumblers march ahead by the silent healing touch of mine.  Still many wander guideless through this long labyrinth of life unable to find their destination.  Even so, I crave Thy indulgence, My Lord, Thy little compassion, to enable me to lead them on to their eternal goal to Thy door.

        Verily at my touch the drooping petals blossom up beaming with life and light, and lo, someone’s soul is survived with a smile; Oh, even tears become some one’s wealth of life, and pain provides solace to some depressed heart.

        Amidst all these manifestations of grace, give me strength, O my Lord!  I may not forget Thee in pleasure and pain, stress and strain, in cloud and rain.

        Absorbed in the manifold and numberless activities of this world, O My Lord, I may not forget Thy sweet remembrance.

(From Shri Yogeshwarji's book entitled 'Tunes unto the Infinite')