Replying to LO27479 --
Dear Organlearners,
Andrew Campbell < ACampnona@aol.com > writes:
>Yesterday, a very, very close and dear friend,
>for very good reasons of his own and of his own
>making, ended our friendship. We went and sat
>in a field to talk about it, and as we did, he
>noticed two small flowers opening up to the day.
Greetings dear Andrew,
Two dozen years ago I gave many extra classes in university chemistry to a
remarkable young lady. She wanted to pay me, but I would not accept it for
she moved on the Goethenian path. She was a musician, she studied the
humanities and when she came to me she was even struggling with chemistry
as the next chair to sit upon. She was in dispair and depressed because
chemistry was the first of many chairs she could not sit on. She could me
no reason why she wanted to study chemistry except that she was compelled
to do it as the next chair.
She wanted to know why I did not want any payment since her parents could
afford to pay me much. I explained to her that it is impossible to pay for
the zig-zag pattern of spiritual emergences. She asked me what chemistry
has to do with it. I said to her that she will find out. She just have to
muster enough patience and courage to sit on this chair and many other
chairs too. She said that she intended microbiology to be the next chair.
A couple of years later she flew form the US to Johannesburg, took a taxi
to Pretoria to where I was working, gave me a copy of a book which she had
published in the mean time, gave me a kiss on the cheek and said "Now I
know".
Her name a Alma Hronic and her book is called "The Lonier Road". Here is
an excerpt from a piece which she calls
*** Angel, Don't Forget ***
"Angel,
My dear Angel,"
Grandma croons to a little girl at her feet
"Angel,
My little Angel,
One day your cherub wings
Will make you fly,
Fly far away.
You will forget me, angle,
My little angel
You will find someone else to love
And everyone loves angels
Like you.
Angel,
My little angel
You will not bring me wild flowers
That I will be able to see
For much longer
Angel,
My dear angel,
Remember me when I am gone ..."
(snip)
Here is another piece which she calls
*** The Hand of a Friend ***
Stop,
Look,
There's a hand out there,
Suddenly, from out of he impentrable darkness
It appeared,
A lifeline, a hidden promise
Just when I as on the verge of dispair
There's a hand out there,
A hand
If I grasp it
It will lead me into the light
out of the blackness;
into the warmth
out of the cold.
Stop, look, there's a hand out there
reaching for me
pulling me out of the blackened pit of dispair
out, out of the piles of the bleached bones of my dreams
out into the light
where I can build new castles in the air
where, refreshed, I will continue living
holding the hand
of a friend ...
Here is another short piece
*** Why? ***
Why?
I wished to sleep,
somebody woke me
I wished to eat,
somebody starved me.
I wished to love,
Everyone hated me.
Why?
With care and best wishes
--At de Lange <amdelange@gold.up.ac.za> Snailmail: A M de Lange Gold Fields Computer Centre Faculty of Science - University of Pretoria Pretoria 0001 - Rep of South Africa
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