For My Son's Best Friend - his dog, "Porter" - A Tribute to the Dog

Gentlemen of the Jury:

The best friend a man has in the world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads.

The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one who never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog. A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in an encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings, and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.

If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard him against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even in death.

(taken from an oral court summation of Senator George Graham Vest who served as a Senator from Missouri from 1879 - 1903)

The Moon Will Not Give Its Light

November is a "between" time - no longer autumn really, and yet, not quite winter. Somehow next Sunday's gospel story of the "end times" fits so perfectly into this 'tween season of early darkness and shorter days. Mark 's gospel speaks to us through the ages,
Jesus said to his disciples:
"In those days after that tribulation
the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
and the stars will be falling from the sky,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken."
Of course no one knows when the real end time will occur, but we know for sure each one of us will face our own end time. So November sets the perfect staging for self-reflection. How are we doing in this life we have been given? Are we prepared for our end times? When my Dad received the news that his life would be ending because his lungs were giving out, he never showed fear or self-pity. Why Dad I asked? Aren't you afraid of dying? No was his answer. I am not afraid because I have prepared my whole life for this moment. When my moon no longer gave light, and my stars fell from the sky, and my faith in the powers of heaven were shaken, I took comfort in my Dad's words. Madeline L'Engle describes this end moment of faith so succinctly in her poem "Epiphany":

Unclench your fists.
Hold out your hands.
Take mine.
Let us hold each other.
This is His Glory
Manifest.