Friday, April 07, 2006
Footprints in the sand ...
He wasn’t the brightest man in the room, unless you measure wattage in capacity to sense the needs and feelings of others and instinct to smooth or calm or encourage to persevere. I felt his light once at a time of doubt and fear and regret, when the forces of resolve stood on a shaky rampart backed only by the faith of those I surely did not deserve. His hand of friendship, extended at times in a chiding glove, helped me reach a place where I too believed such faith was well invested. And there was nothing in it for him but that.
He was a gentle man with most, but a tiger when his sense of justice was offended, or he sensed a course he viewed as intrinsically wrong. Not mistaken, wrong. And he knew the difference, and spoke not to make points or curry favor. And favor did desert him, in no small way because of a moral voice raised in an unkind storm.
I’m not going to prattle on because he was just a man. His name was Dave. Put him on your list tonight, if you don’t mind. He’d do the same for you.