Children...

My neighbor’s son took his life on a recent, ordinary Monday night. He was 32 years old. He was a good son. I often saw him working in his parent’s yard, helping with various projects. He had blonde curly hair and a lean body. I think his eyes were blue. He tended to be quiet and shy around me. His mom told me he was a rescuer. The kind of person who cares too much.

I don’t know how this happens. One minute he is texting happy texts after spending the day with his folks. The next minute he is at the bottom of a dark hole and ends his life.

Early this morning, before I knew about my neighbor’s son, I read The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran where he wrote of children. It made me cry.

As I read it again, I am weeping…

“A woman who held a babe against her bosom said, Speak to us of Children.

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.”

May you Rest In Peace…