Abigail Hastings Tribute
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Call to
Worship
JAH Memorial 11.9.02 |
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There is vesper sparrow |
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that
sings at eventide |
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it
saves its song for close day |
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and
ushers us into the night |
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Its serenade is our
mother’s voice |
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singing
to us still |
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even
now she is here to welcome us |
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to
faith’s sanctuary, this her second home |
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She would want to know |
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if
you have all you need – |
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She would want to know |
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about your children, your parents |
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Your plans for the holidays |
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and
if you are traveling |
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how
you pack your suitcase |
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And while you are gone |
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who
will water your plants |
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and if you have African
violets |
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do you water them from the
saucer |
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to protect
their tender leaves…. |
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And if your legs are short
like hers |
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she’ll bring you the covered footstool |
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And if it’s a little hard
to sit still |
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she’ll sit beside you and draw your hand |
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Or if you ran around the
backyard too long |
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you can rest your head in her waiting lap. |
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She knows we are about
life’s hard work |
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in our gathering here today |
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She knows the sadness of
letting go |
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and what a small hole in the heart feels like |
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Even so, she would remind
us in |
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whispered assurances |
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that the Comforter will
come |
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that we will, in time, know
the peace |
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that passes all present understanding |
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And that as she did
throughout her life, |
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She would make even of this
hard moment, |
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a gift,
wrapped in a ribbon of faith |
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And tell us that though
this day |
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may be over |
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and night is drawing nigh |
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Sweet darkness will enfold
us |
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Bright stars above will
guide us |
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And soon dawn will break
again |
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with a morning sparrow’s new song. |
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- Abigail Hastings |