An open letter to THAT lady

Whenever you are about to find fault with someone, ask yourself the following question: What fault of most nearly resembles the one I am about to criticize?
I have sprinted through an array of emotions today after an entirely innocent chat today that made the bubbles of my world tangle together unexpectedly. If I’m forthright my initial reaction was mommie fudgie HOORAY. Karma, you slow little lady! I floated around with that emotion for several hours. I actually saddled that little donkey up and debated taking it on a trip. Afterward, like hours and hours and hours later it dawned on me why my reaction was that of such harshness and cruelty at this soul’s hardships. The gospel to the wisdom that “hurting people hurt people”. I was wounded deeply by this women who probably would not recognize me if she passed me in the supermarket. (We have, I hid)
Let me back up a few years to a low period in my life. A time when at my feeblest this women who barely knew me chose to rummage about in my intimate hamper, inspecting for dirty laundry. Admittedly it was an era when mucky laundry was abundant and plentiful. She come up arms overflowing , hung it out, and encouraged the neighbors over to inspect it and tell of each of the soiled articles. You have got to see this!!! With little thought of cleaning or deodorizing it, inquiring out what soiled it in the first place or speculating if at my weakest that perhaps I had no idea how to find that damn wash cycle.
So ashamed to admit, today I danced with some awful thoughts upon hearing her life had known sorrow and heartache. Perhaps getting filthy by some of the same life experiences as myself. Perhaps not.
My next reaction was that of outright grief for her. Sadness that possibly someone would treat her poorly and that another soul would have to feel the way that I have felt before. Tears escaped me as I desired to support a women who probably would only recognize me by name, much less be able to put a face to it should our lives ever cross paths.
All these words and propping myself upon this dingy soap box as I just have. This my inner musings of something it has taken me a lifetime to learn but maybe everyone else was years ahead of me figuring out. You cannot judge someone’s fight unless you are in that arena getting your ass kicked with them. We plainlu just DO NOT know. Thank merciful heavens that I have numerous souls in my life that have carefully observed my arena and opted to sit with me during my fights and battles. AND CHEER. I hope this women finds her stadium filled to the brim with cheerleaders and comes out on the other side a healed happy person.