Sunday, January 6, 2008

My Dear Friend

By Joseph C. Collins


My friend, my dear friend. How is it that you are able to have so much joy? It is as pure as a child’s. And how is it that you have a smile as bright as the sun? It seems that you are almost in a world of your own, away from the pains of this life.

Yet when someone comes your way you see a look of sadness in their face and you take pity on them. You put aside your life to comfort them, and then you listen to all of their words and witness all of their tears.

You show love, and with love you bend down to the ground to pick up a flower. You walk up to them and with a gentle “yea” you shower them with petals of that very flower. And soon you are laughing together and all is well.

But when you walk away I can see in your face a look of sorrow of your own. My heart aches for you. But I am not the only one who sees it, for your other friends see it as well. Remembering all the times that you helped them, they take this time to make you smile.
To them it is not right otherwise.
I see them running to you bringing their own flowers. That very joy that I see, they see also, and they do not want it to go away.

It reminds me of the old story of a village long ago. In the center of that village was a gathering place, and in the middle is a bright flame with magnificent colors. All the villagers would come to sit around it.

There they would sing songs and they would eat and even tell stories of their own.
One day the flame began to fade away. One by one the villagers came to keep the precious flame alive, and one by one they could not succeed.
And so with the flame slowly fading, they all gathered around it for one last time. Some were crying and some had their heads down. They gathered to watch as their beloved flame flickered away.

Suddenly they heard a man walking from the shadows. And for some reason they had never noticed him, yet he had always been there.

The man walked up to the dying flame and waved has hand over it. Suddenly with a blaze the flame came back to life. With wonder in their eyes, all of the villagers came up to the man and started to thank him.

But the man looked at them and said, “All of this time when you came here to sing songs and to tell stories, you did not even once notice me. I have been here long before these flames were even a spark.

“As much as I appreciate all that you have done to restore the flame, it does not burn for your joy. It burns for my glory and my joy. I am its keeper and am the only one who has and will always tend this flame.”

And so my friend, my dear friend, this is what I see when I look at your face. Your friends run to your side because they see the same joy as I, and they do not want it to snuff out.
So as you walk toward me you honor me by looking my way. Then you bless me with a smile.
As you walk away, I see that you do not walk alone for there is a man walking with you. It is not your boyfriend nor is it your father.
“Who could it be?” I think to myself.

Just then the man looks back and I see his face. I now know who he is, for the man who walks with you also walks with me.
Finally I understand how you are able to have so much joy and show so much love and have so much strength. You are able to find the strength of men. Yet it is the same men who wish they had such strength.

My friend, my dear friend. How I have longed for the days that it was just us. I can still remember all the times you came up to me just to talk. You have now found others you want to be with. So I will now walk the other way, but I do so staring through tears, for I know that it is over.

I will no longer cry about what was. Instead I will rejoice in what is and what is to come. As I walk away I will always carry with me the scars of that fateful day.
Every morning I wake up and look in the mirror I am reminded of how and why I got the scars. I was ever so kind and tried my best to show love for it was my name that they mucked and my chivalry that was stained.

So now you know the look of sadness you see in my own face. We were such good friends and now it is coming to an end.
But I know deep down inside, that no matter who comes and or who goes that my life is far from over.
And now I say to you “Goodbye my friend, my dear friend, goodbye.”

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