"Heralding Angels" by Annie Henrie |
Prayers for Rory, whose brother died Friday and who found
out while he was in my classroom. Who seemed so lonely and sad and confused and
my words failed. Prayers for the two babies and the wife of that brother, who
found themselves widowed and fatherless and who must be, must be, in the special providential care of the Father
of all.
Prayers for Michael who told Rory that he worries every
minute of every day that his father will be killed in Afghanistan but that he
has learned to trust that death is not something to fear. Death is not the end,
it is the beginning. Death is a great, bright adventure. We should not be
afraid of death.
Prayers for Lorina who told Rory that three of her siblings
died by the time she was twelve. When her six-year-old sister died when she was
twelve, she saw her little brother and sister who had gone on before come to
recover her and take her into a world of light. Who still feels their presences
and thinks of their faces and wonders and hopes.
Prayers for Andre whose mother and father died in a car
crash when he was a small boy and who was adopted, along with his four
siblings, by his aunt and uncle who already had six small children of their
own. Who began hating his aunt-mother when he was a young teenager and felt
that his own mother would not be so demanding and his life would have been much
better if she had not died but who eventually tried to serve and love her and
realized she is a marvelous, beautiful woman. I really love her, he said. Who
told us all this a week ago and who asked if he could maybe offer a prayer for
Rory. He prayed for courage and hope and comfort and strength.
And prayers for all the rest of those bright, beautiful,
broken kids who wept with and for Rory and who are fighting demons and devils
and darkness of their own. Prayers for this world in which horrible things
happen and people shine with a light so resplendent it makes you wince in
agonizing love.
This brought me to my knees, Robbie. I couldn't even bring myself to post a comment last week, but today I can face it. And my comment is this: Keep writing, my friend. I love your voice.
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