Of some few it may...
Illustration
Of some few it may be said in the end, as is said here, "Their bodies are buried in peace; but their name lives forever." Most go through life as one walks beside the sea on the sand of a great level beach --soon the tide comes in, and every footprint is washed away. A few walk the high places where no tide can ever go.
For example, Lincoln. A mother one evening just after dark was walking with her young daughter past the old Lincoln home in Springfield, Illinois. The small girl, not realizing the full truth of her words, exclaimed, "Oh mother, look, Mr. Lincoln forgot to put out his light when he went away." Well, he did. His light still shines, and all time cannot put it out.
Ben Johnson wrote an epitaph for Queen Elizabeth which points up an overwhelming kind of truth. His words: "Underneath this stone doth lie as much beauty as could die." There is a
thrilling implication here, this: There is so much beauty which cannot die.
You walk into a funeral home and some attendant asks, "Do you wish to see the remains?" Well, if you do, don't look into a casket. What remains of that life now ended is not there. The remains are left somewhere behind, out there in the community, in the world, in the hearts and lives of people touched along the way. Sometimes these remains are so precious, so rich and so essentially good that they acquire a kind of immortality of their own; they can never pass away.
--Mann
For example, Lincoln. A mother one evening just after dark was walking with her young daughter past the old Lincoln home in Springfield, Illinois. The small girl, not realizing the full truth of her words, exclaimed, "Oh mother, look, Mr. Lincoln forgot to put out his light when he went away." Well, he did. His light still shines, and all time cannot put it out.
Ben Johnson wrote an epitaph for Queen Elizabeth which points up an overwhelming kind of truth. His words: "Underneath this stone doth lie as much beauty as could die." There is a
thrilling implication here, this: There is so much beauty which cannot die.
You walk into a funeral home and some attendant asks, "Do you wish to see the remains?" Well, if you do, don't look into a casket. What remains of that life now ended is not there. The remains are left somewhere behind, out there in the community, in the world, in the hearts and lives of people touched along the way. Sometimes these remains are so precious, so rich and so essentially good that they acquire a kind of immortality of their own; they can never pass away.
--Mann
