Poems, Prayers, and Promises from a Country Parson

Paper Treasures

Yesterday afternoon I went searching for a church document. I need to mail a Candidacy Certificate, but I had to find it first before I could mail it. So I began playing the classic game of “Where did I put that stupid thing?”. I looked in every drawer, every box, and every folder and file. I thought about where I placed it, but I could not find it. I will try again today.

Even though I failed to find my Candidacy Certificate I discovered something far greater. In one of my file folders I discovered some letters and cards from Nannie and Dado. I held them in my hand close to my heart. I could feel their presence in the paper. Then it happened.

At first it was very slow. I could feel them bubbling up down deep in my soul. They slowly moved up from the depths of my soul. Up, up, up. They moved delicately and slowly.

I opened the cards. Recorded on the pages were memories, words, and thoughts forever captured by pen and ink. I read their words. The letters reached down through my eyes and helped lift the travelers from the depth of my soul.

I cried.
I wept.
I felt my heart.

How sorely do I miss my Grandparents? This dance with grief has lasted longer than I want. Why did I sign my name on her dance card? Why did the band have to play such a long song?

Then I remembered. I did not choose grief. She crashed my prom. She walked in with her date death. He interrupted my dance with Nannie and Dado. He came tapped on the shoulders, and took my partners.

There I stood on the dance floor alone. Who would I dance with? The music is still playing, but I have no partner. Then she came. She offered to be my dance partner. I began to dance with grief.

So there on my bed on a Wednesday afternoon, I sat with my dance card. Gentle words from gentle partners pierced like a needle into the well of my soul. And from that pin prick welled up the tears of healing.

I cried.
I wept.
I felt my heart.

My dance partner lifted her head off my shoulder. My tears and touched her cheek. She knew that the dance would soon be over. My name was on another dance card, but I forget on whose.

So knowing the song would soon end, we held each other tightly. I dance with grief, and she dances with me. My tears flow onto her soft cheek. One hand holds her tightly, while the other clutches the paper treasures.

posted by Hugh @ 10:11 AM