The following poem is fanciful (There is no Jessie, in reality). It reflects a philosophy that I find personally appealing – the idea of a “universal crazy quilt”, stitched together from each and every life, however short the life, however sized or shaped or colored -- each life a unique patch.
The world’s a jigsaw, once I thought,
With each of us a piece to fit,
A predetermined Grand Design
And each of us a part of it.
I thought that God must surely have
A blueprint of His final goal,
And all who come into this life
Are meant to play some fated role.
But when my little Jessie died,
It seemed to me but sheer caprice.
Where fits a child in God’s design
Who never lived to add her piece?
How often did I walk alone
To still the anguish in my heart,
To ask why God would make a plan
In which my child had no part.
One day, upon a village square,
I happened by a tiny shop.
What random step had led me there?
What in the window made me stop?
It was a quilt, a crazy quilt,
Each piece a brightly-colored patch,
A joyful, glowing work of art
From scraps you’d think would never match.
I looked upon the quilt in awe
To think a thing so oddly fine
Was stitched from fragments never made
To fit to anyone’s design.
I wondered then if God might wish
That in this way His world be built,
Each life a motley-colored scrap,
And He the weaver of the quilt.
If such be true, I realize,
My child’s life, though short it be,
Is yet a joyful, shining patch
In God’s eternal tapestry.
I looked upon the quilt and saw
A patch that seemed but sheer caprice,
So whimsical it made me smile.
I knew it was my Jessie's piece.
~~ Robert Brault
14 comments:
Just lovely, Bob.
=)
I LOVE this. It's going into my 'saved' file to re-read often. Beautiful.
As always, you made my day. Thank you!
most beautiful words I have read in a long time. Made my tears puddle on my lap.
Thank you for posting it.
Ulrike Vanover
I have never commented here before but all the more reason I wanted to tell you that I enjoy your texts very much :) keep on writing, you are wonderful :)
I have a question, Robert, did you write this poem? I have 2 friends that lost their children in an accident. I would like to copy and frame that for them. I also would like to give credit to the writer. Thanks, Ulrike
it must become very boring to keep seeing people gush. Why don't you say or do something really stupid so we can collectively say: "Good grief, man! Get a life!" Remember, To err is human. don
It follows that such a universal crazy quilt would include the crazy, hard-hearted, unfeeling, lost, confused, opinionated and ignorant...as well as the warm, kindly, considerate, talented, forgiving and fanciful.
I find the philosophy appealing as well, Robert. There is a place for all of us and such a quilt should cover and embrace everyone.
All,
Shortly after posting this on Saturday, I lost power in the largest October snowstorm ever to hit Connecticut (up to two feet). Trees and power lines down everywhere. No internet.
Power not expected back for days. Today Joan and I fled Connecticut for our daughter's home in far northern Vermont, where, ironically, they have no snow. Sorry for not acknowledging comments earlier. Thanks all for kind comments. Ulrike, yes, the poem is mine, and I'd be delighted to have you share it with anyone who might take some small consolation from it.
smiles all,
rb
So beautiful Robert :)
Truly a lovely poem.
Cyndy
thank you Robert, I hope this will help heal their heart a little tiny bit.
I also have friends in CT. They have no power yet. Hope you are holding up well at your daughters home. Thanks again,
Ulrike Vanover
Biddy Stitch, Cyndy, Ulrike,
Thanks for your kind comments. I wrote this poem in the first days of the blog (two years ago), and it's been passed around a bit on the internet. I'm so pleased when I notice that it's been read by someone who's suffered the loss of a child. The emotional hurt can't be assuaged, I know, but after a period of time you try to get your mind around it, and who knows what little conceit might help.
smiles all,
rb
I, too, have friends who lost a child. Two years ago Makayla Sitton, just six years old, was murdered by a family member along with her mother's two cousins and her grandmother. It's been brutally painful for the family and the community. I will share this with hrr father. Thank you again.
Ps I finally remembered to order your notecards, looking forward to sharing them.
ARIE,
You remind us of how far removed from real life are the flights of fancy posted in this blog. Thanks so much for ordering the note cards.
rb
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