Tuesday, April 22, 2008

and I'm sure the door was open

A saint went home this morning, and I'm sure the door was open.

I didn't know this gentleman very well; when we first moved to the neighborhood, I knew him as the tall, quiet man who brought his flute to worship and played with the congregational singing. Later, working with after-school program, I knew him as a kind man who learned my name and used it when he said hello. I also knew him as an artist, glad to share his markers and teach the clumsy-handed to make something beautiful.

Something beautiful.

Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift.

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