By Larry Chadwick
Ted Chadwick b: August 16, 1929 – d: August 6, 2002
Three boys were such bold young lads,
That strode right up to the gate.
They knocked and spoke real loud,
“Excuse me, you’ve made a big mistake.
The man you took – he was our dad,
It seems you should let him be.
If someone really had to go,
We each thought, ‘it should have been me’.”
The door had opened wide
And He stood so tall.
He spoke with a gentle voice,
And let them know “He’d meant no harm at all.
I know just what you mean
And have made that self-same plea.
I told My Father of your need,
And asked that He send Me.
But there’s something else that I must tell,
For it’s important that you should know.
So I’ll tell you now then send you back,
For it’s not your time to go.”
The boys were pleased that He had listened,
And told them exactly what they wanted to know.
So they did as they were told,
They walked away – it wasn’t their turn to go.
Their mother knew they’d made this trek,
And asked them "what they had learned instead."
Then she quietly listened,
As she tucked them into bed.
“Jesus told us ‘Dad would be okay.'
He knew exactly how we felt.
It seems He knows how this story ends,
We thought His heart would melt.”
She kissed them on the cheek
And stayed a while at their side.
Jesus had promised they’d be together – forever,
And they all knew He had not lied.
They looked into each other’s eyes,
And swore an oath for eternity.
To live just as they should,
So on the other side dad would see his family.
August 7, 2002
I woke in the middle of the night exactly 24 hours after papa died with this poem in my head. I got up and wrote it in his memory as a gift from my mom and his boys.
If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again.
[This message has been edited by Larry C (08-07-2002 03:20 PM).]