Steve watched a 15 year old die in the street last night from a gunshot wound in his side, shot from close range.
"Were his parents there?"
"No. It was one o'clock in the morning."
"Well, I thought maybe it was in front of his house."
"No. I'm sure he was out causing trouble."
It made me think. I suppose chances are the assumption was close to the truth.
I wonder why he was out in the middle of the night the day after Thanksgiving. At what point did he make the decision that would lead to the event causing his unfortunate death? Did he sneak out of his house? Was he hanging out with friends? Was he the sidekick hesitant to be out there in the first place? Had he sat around a table with family for a Thanksgiving dinner just the day before with people that looked in his face and said to themselves, "Thank you, God, for having this boy in my life"? No familiar face was there when the shallow gasps for breath ceased; I wonder who was there when he took his first breath?
I won't know because it wasn't Steve's gig, but it makes me thoughtful about the decisions I will make today, and tomorrow.
Forward, forward, ever forward. Life keeps moving; time is in God's hands. I can't ponder too long on the decisions made, by me or by others, that brought unfortunate events to my loved ones.
Today I will decorate the Christmas tree with the ones I love. Not all of them. But the ones that have chosen to keep me in their lives. I'm thankful.
Ah, dear friends, as years go on and heads get gray,
how fast the guests do go.
Touch hands, touch hands, with those that stay.
Strong hands to weak, old hands to young,
around the Christmas board, touch hands.
The false forget, the foe forgive, for every guest will go
and every fire burn low and cabin empty stand.
Forget, forgive, for who may say
that Christmas Day may ever come to host or guest again.
Touch hands!
~William Henry Harrison "Adirondack" Murray (1840-1904)
