I had something completely different in mind to write this week, but after a conversation just yesterday with another one of our columnists, I think my other topic can wait.

Whitey Harwood, this is squarely at your feet, my friend.

Whitey and I were talking about his column, and how he always uses song titles and music. During the conversation, he asked if I had ever heard the song “Tramp on the Street” by Luke the Drifter.

I had not heard of the song or the singer. Turns out, Luke the Drifter is Hank Williams, and while I am familiar with some of his songs, I hadn’t heard this one.

Whitey encouraged me to give it a listen. I did more than that. I listened and I looked up the lyrics.

Listen, this girl was raised to be a tough nut. I don’t cry often. But this song brought me to tears.

The main refrain says:

“He was some mother’s darling,

He was some mother’s son.

Once he was fair and once he was young,

And some mother rocked him, her darling to sleep,

But they left him to die like a tramp on the street.”

There are references to Lazarus and to Jesus, and if you are a person of faith, that can make the message that much stronger. As for me, my faith is intensely personal and I don’t have much to say about it.

But my sons, now that’s another matter.

I have two boys that are the lights of my life, and they are amazing, smart, capable, talented young men, but they have also had their share of challenges.

Anything that makes me think of either of my sons, or of my stepdaughters in truth, being out in the world in need of care, of compassion, and being  helped, and having the world turn its back on them, tears me apart.

Because as Hank says, everyone is someone’s child, and every mother is worried about that child forever, no matter how old they get.

After reading the lyrics, I went home last night and messaged all of our now-grown kids, just to say hello.

My older son, who knows me well, asked what happened at work. He knows I spent a lot of years as a crime reporter, and that there were times when a story got under my skin more than usual. When he and his brother were young, those were the days I came home to hold them tight, just for a moment. So he asked if I was having an “I need a hug” day.

Yes, son, yes I was.

For most of my life, I have been an optimist. I have been able to see the glass as half full, and been able to believe that as humans, our general goodness will win out in the end and guide our behavior.

I have trusted my own sense of right and wrong to guide me, as well. Sure, I get angry sometimes, and in those moments I can edit my words less than I should. But it never makes me feel good to hurt someone else, and I’m going to end up apologizing because I can’t stand knowing I’ve made another person feel bad. Even if I still think I might be right, it’s not worth winning an argument at the expense of someone’s feelings.

In recent years, it has been harder for me to hold on to that optimism. We seem to have lost our way a bit when it comes to caring about others, especially strangers.

It’s easier to convince ourselves it’s not our problem, easier to close the door so we don’t see the need.

It can be hard to tell the difference, I know, between real need and a “scam,” for lack of a better word. And I know that makes us all more resistant to hold that door open.

But in truth, if it’s a question of trying to decide if someone is worthy of my help or not, I’ll willingly take the risk. If the need is real, then both of us feel better. If it’s not, I’m only out a little time, energy and maybe a few dollars, and I don’t regret it.

I read those lyrics, and in my mind’s eye, I see MY son, alone, afraid, hungry, cold (or in this season, hot), and truthfully in our world, in danger.

And then I need to remember the nights I’d wake to nurse him and it would be just the two of us sitting in the rocker. On those nights, a different song played in my head.

Whitey I thank you for reminding me that if we are not kind to one another, who is left? Be kind.

And I’ll leave you with the lyrics that still fill my heart when I think back on those nights when it was a mother and her son and no one else. “You and Me Against the World” by Helen Reddy.

“Tell me again, mommy

You and me against the world

Sometimes it seems like you and me against the world

When all the others turn their backs and walk away

You can count on me to stay

Remember when the circus came to town

And you were frightened by the clown

Wasn’t it nice to be around someone that you knew

Someone who was big and strong and looking out for

You and me against the world

Sometimes it feels like you and me against the world

And for all the times we’ve cried I always felt that

God was on our side

And when one of us is gone

And one of us is left to carry on

Then remembering will have to do

Our memories alone will get us through

Think about the days of me and you

You and me against the world”

Elisabeth Strillacci is editor of the Salisbury Post.