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EDGES MAGAZINE Issue
37 |
April 2004 |
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The Parable of
The Mother
There was once a Mother who
had three sons.
They were good sons, and she raised them in the best way
she knew how, in a small town in the North.
As the years rolled by. The
eldest son came of age and decided to leave the home, to seek his fortune in
the South.
Still the Mother loved him.
Soon after, the middle son left
to join the army of that country, where he travelled all over the world,
And still the Mother loved him too.
The youngest son stayed in the town
and worked.
Always, the Mother loved each one of her three sons equally and
was proud of them.
The eldest and youngest sons lost their way for a while,
and struggled to find their way back home.
Still the Mother loved them and
held them close to her heart.
The middle son spent many months in different
countries and cities. He did not see as much of the Mother as the other sons.
However, it made no difference.
For the Mother loved him so and held him
dear to her heart still.
Then it came to pass that the Mother was to fall
ill. The youngest and middle sons were greatly saddened by this, for they were
not ready to let their Mother go. However, the Mother knew that she was loved
by all three of her sons, and she knew in her heart of hearts that she could
depart this life. Safe in the knowledge that she had taught her sons to become
men, in their own right. Also, she left them with one last gift – To know
what it is to be loved.
And so she passed peacefully into the next
life, and as she walked to the gates of heaven. She was met by Saint Peter, who
smiled warmly at her and said,
"Welcome….. We’ve been
expecting
PAUL
CULLEN |
What is
Death, but the absence of life. The marking of the passing of time?
We face
Death every day and in every area of our lives. The Death of a relationship, of
a job… Of a loved one!
Each day dies away as the sun sets in a burst
of colour, only to be reborn each morning. And such is the same with people in
our lives.
There are people who leave such a powerful impression on us,
that they can never truly die. Their memory, their words live on in each person
they’ve impacted upon – And as time passes, their effect upon us is
passed on, and through time, they achieve a kind of immortality. No flower dies
without leaving seeds to bloom elsewhere.
Each persons life is limited by
physical time upon the earth, so then, each interaction, each friendship we
make, each relationship we start is a way of passing on the seed of ourselves.
"Nothing is forgotten, nothing is ever forgotten."
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A Prayer For
The Weary
Weep for those
whose strength has gone
Ask God to lay his hands upon.
And for those
who’ve faltered from the path.
Pray take their hand, and guide them
back.
Hold them steady, when they stumble.
Give words of hope that make
them humble.
And in the hour they need you most
Fill them with the Holy
Ghost.
The tears they cry can ease the pain,
And when the waitings
over, break the chain!
The chain that binds them to their grief.
Let
suffering end, and bring relief.
PAUL
CULLEN
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