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Show 254 believe, as inspired of God. The very words given him by God. Telling me the necessary and very sacred personal guidelines for my life here on Earth. I would "live to see my children reach maturity," he had said. I am looking into then young but prematurely wise eyes and wondering if any of them has indeed reached maturity. They are children, I am thinking, and they play children's games as their daily occupation. They talk like children, I am realizing, a pure honesty guiding even their every intonation. They have children's aspirations and children's weaknesses. And they still associate with other children, who frankly ask them, at the bus stop, if their mother is dead yet. My mind is struggling to remember the exact words of the blessing but I realize that it does not matter what I remember. It matters what this innocent son is remembering, what I have casually told him one day so very long ago that only he has somehow remembered for perhaps this very moment in time. "I remember," I am saying to him. He is nodding, smiling now. He has no doubt, he has no hesitation. His eyes are bright with this perfect faith: his mother will not die anytime soon because our Heavenly Father has said so. |
