FOR THE
INWARD JOURNEY, by Howard Thurman, “Moments of Celebration,” p. 252 (1984)
“There is
the joy that is given. There are those who have in themselves the gift of Joy.
It has no relation to merit or demerit. It is not a quality they have wrested
from the vicissitudes of life. Such people have not fought and won a hard
battle, they have made no conquest. To them Joy is given as a precious
ingredient of life. Wherever they go, they give birth to Joy to others—they are
the heavenly troubadours, earthbound, who spread their music all around and who
sing their song without words and without sounds. To be touched is to be
blessed by God. They give even as they have been given. Their presence is a
benediction and a grace. In them we hear the music in the score and in their
faces we sense a glory which is the very light of Heaven.”
Reading these poignant words of that
great philosopher-mystic-preacher-theologian, Howard Thurman, my mind harkens
back to a baby named Betty. Her mother was a gifted piano player at our childhood
church, St. Matthews C.M.E., in Kirkwood, Missouri. She played wonderfully and powerfully
by ear only, being totally unable to read music, a source of enduring amazement
to my young, pre-adolescent mind. She had only recently arrived from Kentucky,
when she joined our church, and gave birth to Betty. Betty was a beautiful baby, whose sparkling
eyes pierced your soul, and whose ready grin stole your heart. She captivated
us with her love, with her joy, with her light. Everybody wanted to hug, hold,
and kiss Betty. She lifted our spirits by her nearness. What a baby Betty was!
One day, we were saddened to learn that Betty was sick. Soon thereafter, Betty
died. A pall fell over our church with her passing, at age 2. So young, so
beautiful, so full of joy! We struggled to comprehend to understand to apprehend:
why. Why? Why? Why? Her mother was
inconsolable and left our church and our community soon afterwards for
good. Maybe they both were angels. I do
not know. What I do know is that they both brought joy, oh great joy! Joy that
I still feel 50 years later!
