If Our Father Had Had

...life Every Now And Then Becomes Literature...as If Life Had Been Made And Not Happened.

Yet Even In The Loneliness Of The Canyon I Knew There Were Others Like Me Who Had Brothers They Did Not Understand But Wanted To Help. We Are Probably Those Referred To As "our Brother's Keepers," Possessed Of One Of The Oldest And Possible One Of The Most Futile And Certainly One Of The Most Haunting Instincts. It Will Not Let Us Go.

So It Is That We Can Seldom Help Anybody. Either We Don't Know What Part To Give Or Maybe We Don't Like To Give Any Part Of Ourselves. Then, More Often Than Not, The Part That Is Needed Is Not Wanted. And Even More Often, We Do Not Have The Part That Is Needed.

I Sat There And Forgot And Forgot, Until What Remained Was The River That Went By And I Who Watched. On The River The Heat Mirages Danced With Each Other And Then They Danced Through Each Other And Then They Joined Hands And Danced Around Each Other. Eventually The Water Joined The River, And There Was Only One Of Us. I Believe It Was The River.

Each One Of Us Here Today Will At One Time In Our Lives Look Upon A Loved One Who Is In Need And Ask The Same Question: We Are Willing To Help, Lord, But What, If Anything, Is Needed? For It Is True We Can Seldom Help Those Closest To Us. Either We Don't Know What Part Of Ourselves To Give Or, More Often Than Not, The Part We Have To Give Is Not Wanted. And So It Is Those We Live With And Should Know Who Elude Us. But We Can Still Love Them - We Can Love Completely Without Complete Understanding.