Folks - I have a heavy heart tonight. In our town, a young policeman was shot and killed last night. Details are sketchy, but he came to the aid of another officer, and was gunned down by someone from about a half block away.

His name was not released until this afternoon. It turns out that he was one of my son's friends. They played in Little League together, pitcher to catcher. They attend the same church and have been close for the last 10 years. I have kept in contact with his parents.

At 18, he decided he wanted to be a cop, and we were all apprehensive about it. But it was his dream. He got married 2 years ago, and has a 2 month old son.

Someone, and I think it may have been Bob Pure, posted a poem about dying young. If anyone has it, I would appreciate it. I want it for the memorial service.

(((B)))) How tragic for that young man and his family. I don't have a clue which poem you mean but if you can remember a little of it, google might come up with the rest of it for you.

TT - I can't remember any of it. When I read it, I loved it. Whoever posted it, just gave a couple of stanzas. I think it was BobPure. At at the time, I googled it, and it was a long poem. It was written by some guy in England, and was about soldiers killed in war.

it's hard to know which one you are looking for..........
We can try a few perhaps.

Rendezvous - Alan Seeger

I have a rendezvous with Death
At some disputed barricade,
When Spring comes back with rustling shade
And apple-blossoms fill the air -
I have a rendezvous with Death
When Spring brings back blue days and fair.

It may be he shall take my hand
And lead me into his dark land
And close my eyes and quench my breath -
It may be I shall pass him still.
I have a rendezvous with Death
On some scarred slope of battered hill,
When Spring comes round again this year
And the first meadow-flowers appear.

God knows 'twere better to be deep
Pillowed in silk and scented down,
Where love throbs out in blissful sleep,
Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath,
Where hushed awakenings are dear...
But I've a rendezvous with Death
At midnight in some flaming town,
When Spring trips north again this year,
And I to my pledged word am true,
I shall not fail that rendezvous.

For The Fallen - Laurence Binyon

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Thanks so much SS. It is "For the Fallen". I looked and looked for it. I really appreciate it.

Believer,
My personal opinion is that God will help you, because you are so willing to help others.

I hope your Holiday season is a very happy one.

Merry Christmas, with all that this greeting implies.

SS