A reader sent in a poem, Kindness by Naomi Shihab Nye. Here are the opening lines:

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.

You can read the full poem here.