As of September 4, 2011 at 2:33 P.M. (C.S.T.) the world held 6,959,939,818 people.  –World Population Clock

   Soon, there will be seven billion.

   And just you.

   You are the performer. You are the audience.

   You are the caregiver. You are the patient.

   In the beginning God welcomed you into the house of your body. You have made your house a home.

   You are the daughter of the sun. You are the son of the earth. You are God's only child.

   Unnumbered scars map your heart. Veins of gold illuminate your spirit and there is no doubt that you are the only one who can touch those veins, read the life of the leaf, know love's throbbing dance. 

   The chapters of your being are written by the sounds that have entered you and the scents that have breezed your memory. Your skin recalls sacred touch and angry slap. Warm zephyrs and the breath of winter know just you. 

   Your eyes have seen the world's prism, felt's pain's spasms, watched beauty curve, been cut by the serrated saw of the ugly. You have noticed the texture of tree bark, heard your feet touch the forest path, felt your body pierce the lake.

   Your tongue remembers bread. Rain has healed your throat.

   You are the only person who knows how you feel, thinks what you think.

   Yours are the words that matter. There is nothing more important then your presence.

   In your rooms live the only people you have ever known. Your hands alone know the feel of this moment's air.

    Just you know the glories of your day. Only you know the agonies of your night. 

    You are the single one who knows your hardest truth. You are the only one who can tell your story.

    [On September 4, 2011 at 2:36 p.m. the world held 6,959,941,211 people.]

    During the minutes you read this essay, Love welcomed another thousand into this world and received hundreds who left it.

   Soon, there will be seven billion.

   And just you.

  -Reverend Erie Chapman