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Show m the street from the funeral site. They held their weapons in their laps and perhaps even watched as Brian and I, jake and ."aria walked past them into the building. I was not so much afraid cf dying that day as I was of living. As we sang the v/ords my father had written, I clung to my little sister's hand and felt no better-equipped to deal with life than she was, at the age of ten. "My life is Yours, Oh Saviour, dear To do Thgr will through all my days." And yet we shared something that would help us through the days ahead, a child's awareness that this life is a single phase in an ever-expanding pattern, that death is not the conqueror. "I do not seek for high estate To v/alk in honor among men Among Thy servants I'd be great... Hy paths most humble, lord." His paths had not been humble in scope. But knowledge of their expanse had made him humble. The seed-dreams had been sown and they would sprout and one day bear -aHarr read my father's favorite poems -- 'The Psalm o: Life* and "Abou Ben Adam* V fd t h ci-r ' r; a -I c<- ts - '- u i i - d O w i t .' iter rose and read a poem she had written for him called 'The Family Doctor,' telling of how many had believed that the 'doctor could not die.' Then Uncle Arthur arose, his hands trembling and confessed that he had dreamed - some months before - that he had preached the Cospel in this auditorium. He told of his final conversation 1 n -••' >• o '*> r= A r» •-» * f"! " - * ---, n o r ~'n ~Z "I "1 r • - 1 " ' . . i i C llcX'-'- w-2 <£L -i- U. J -1- nl U v U . . u l ' - Q V O L . y -"ij. u i i U i • -*• |