Theos-Talk Archives (August 2006 Message tt00570)

Subject: The Childrens Song


"The Boy's First Birthday"

One time a parson visited a simple man's home in the countryside. The parson noticed a board the man kept with writing on it. The parson said to the man,"Tell me about this board."  The man said "That is my wisdom board.  Whenever I hear someone speak or I hear or read something that's wise, I try to simplify it and then I write it on the board to help me remember it."

So the parson starting reading the board and was happy to see the board included some short sayings out of her own sermons. So she realized some one had really heard her and that made her very happy.  She asked the man, "Do you have any more boards?"  He said "Well, yes there are more.  However some things my ears hear are already to beautiful and simple. So with those, I put them in a notebook.  I call those, songs of the soul."  The parson said to the simple man, "May I see your notebook; your songs of the soul."

The man said  slowly "Parson, you're looking at the book. We all have songs within, we only have to give ourselves the freedom the sing them."  He went on to say,
"Sometimes, we hear a song so wise and simple and beautiful, that all we can do is add our own songs to it."

The lady parson wanted to hear a little more from this simple man, so she said,"Sing me a song from your notebook." So the man invited the lady to sit down with him on the porch and he looked into the trees and then back to the lady. He told her," I heard a song the other day. A parson such as yourself sang the song to the children. I know she talked about the song in her sermon, but I can't really remember much of what she said, except that I know about half way through, her soul started singing; and there was more in the tune of her sermon than the words." "What I remembered was the simple song for the children."

The lady looked at the trees and then back to the man. She remained silent. She wanted to hear the song.  So the man said, "The song was already to wise and beautiful, so all I could do is add songs to it.  My grandson was about to have his first birthday, so I borrowed the song, added a few verses, and went on my way.
So this is the song I sang to my grandson and left in writing for his mom if she wants to sing it. The man hummed a little and then begin to sing:

I love you forever;
I'll be with you always,
As long as I'm living,
My grandson you'll be.

We are im-mor-tals,
Di-vine in becoming,
As we do to others,
We do unto me.

Our bodies our stardust,
Our hearts are of spirit,
As we love one another,
Our souls are set free.

I love you forever,
I'll be with you always,
As long as we're singing,
To-gather we'll be.

Now that was the end of the song.  They sat together in silence for a minute, then the man told the parson about the lady preacher, Kathleen Ellis who wrote and sang the first verse.  The lady parson and the man talked about how in olden days the wise words were put into song form so the people could sing them and remember them like the celestial song we call the Bahagavad Gita. The man knew where Kathleen's song came from but he kept silent about that because he knew that would be like trying to speak about the fragrance of a rose.

The parson said to the man," well, it sure might be easier if I had a singing voice, so I had better stick to talking." At that the man looked into the trees again, and then turned to the lady parson and said, "it seems to me that sermons are sort of like that TV and that radio, always trying to keep our attention. But songs invite our participation. Maybe your singing voice is not so important as your invitation to have others sing along with you."

The lady parson arose and drove off.  The man went inside and looked at the board.  The lady and the man each had their own voice.  The parson would continue her talks from the heart,  and the simple man would keep singing to the children from his notebook.


G.W.B.






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