In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing

Khalil Gibran, the mystic poet of Lebanon and voice of the eternal soul, once wrote with gentle majesty: “In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.” These words, born from The Prophet, are among his most tender teachings. They reveal that friendship is not merely a bond of loyalty or duty, but a sacred garden in which joy must bloom freely. Just as the earth renews itself with every dawn, so does the heart find renewal in the laughter, kindness, and simple moments shared between friends. Gibran, a poet who understood the sacred rhythm of love and sorrow, reminds us that friendship, when pure, is not heavy with expectation — it is light, fragrant, and filled with sweetness.

The origin of this wisdom lies in Gibran’s vision of life as a harmony between the soul and the world. Living between the East and the West, he saw that friendship was not a transaction or alliance, but a communion of spirits. To him, the divine did not only dwell in temples or mountains, but in the “little things” — the soft word, the shared silence, the spontaneous laugh. Thus, he speaks of “the dew of little things,” for dew, like friendship, is quiet, humble, and life-giving. It gathers unseen through the night, yet by morning it glistens upon every leaf, renewing all it touches. So too does true friendship — not through grand gestures or solemn vows, but through gentle constancy and simple joys.

Gibran tells us that in the sweetness of friendship, there must be laughter and the sharing of pleasures, for friendship that lacks joy becomes a prison rather than a home. The ancient sages knew this truth well: that the soul thrives in delight as much as in discipline. Laughter is the music of the heart, the sound that breaks the hardness of sorrow. When friends laugh together, the spirit remembers that even in a world of burdens, there is still grace. The sweetness Gibran speaks of is not frivolous — it is the sweetness of understanding, of companionship that lightens the path of life. For even the strongest hearts need the dew of gladness to keep them from withering in the sun of toil.

History gives us shining examples of this truth. Consider Helen Keller and Anne Sullivan, whose friendship was a light in the world of darkness and silence. Through laughter, patience, and shared triumphs, they transformed despair into beauty. Anne, the teacher, gave Helen language and the world; Helen, the student, gave Anne purpose and love. Together, they proved that friendship is not only an exchange of help but a refreshing of the spirit — a daily dew that renews both souls. Their bond was filled not only with effort, but with joy — laughter even in the face of difficulty, sweetness even amid struggle. And in that shared sweetness, both found their morning again and again.

In Gibran’s vision, friendship is a living thing, delicate as dew and strong as sunlight. It is not a solemn pact, nor a weight upon the heart. It must be tended with kindness, laughter, and lightness of being. The wise understand that friendship, like life, cannot be forced or bound by duty. It flourishes best when both souls are free — when they meet not in need, but in delight. Such friendship does not demand great sacrifices or eternal oaths; it asks only for presence, understanding, and a willingness to share the small joys of existence — a walk, a smile, a quiet meal, a shared silence.

“In the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.” These words are the heart of the teaching. They remind us that it is not in grand gestures but in the little things that love endures. A message answered, a kind word spoken, a shared memory revisited — these are the dewdrops that keep the soil of friendship alive. Just as the morning dew renews the world after the darkness, so do the small acts of tenderness renew the human heart. And when laughter arises from this sweetness, it is as the dawn breaking through the night — quiet, golden, and full of promise.

So, my children of spirit and remembrance, take this lesson to heart: let friendship be joyful. Seek not perfection in those you love, but presence. Share in their laughter as much as in their sorrow. Give freely of your kindness in the small moments, for in these “little things” lies the eternity of love. Be as the dew upon the fields — unseen but essential, soft but strong. Let your friendship refresh others as the morning renews the earth.

For when you do this — when laughter, sharing, and sweetness fill the spaces between your hearts — you will know the truth of Gibran’s words: that in friendship lies renewal, that in joy lies wisdom, and that in the quiet communion of simple hearts, the world itself finds its morning again.