I have just returned after being in Toronto for a week. Lorna is still
there with her mother who broke her leg at the hip and had it operated on but is
not doing very well at present. While we were with her in hospital the frailty
of human life was very evident. One of the many thoughts that came to mind was
a poem ‘The Deacon’s One Horse Shay’ which I heard when I was in school.
Although I had heard it only once and my memory of when exactly I heard it – I
think I was in grade five of six but I wouldn’t swear to it – it stuck in my
memory. You may not be familiar with it – Lorna wasn’t – so here is a synopsis
of the plot. The deacon believes that things wear out because of a weakness in
one of the components. This weakness – the fatal flaw - leads to strain on
other part and causes it to break down. The deacon decides to deal with this by
building every part of a shay (carriage) using the finest of materials for every
component. He does this and his theory seems to be born out as time passes and
there is no sign of aging. This goes on until the century mark when the riding
along the deacon finds himself on the ground with nothing but a mound of dust
around him. Looking it up on the internet I find that it was written by none
other than Oliver Wendell Homes.
It made an impression on me at the time and I remember it after all these
years. As I age and see what the ravages of time can do to people I wonder why
God didn’t make people – his greatest creation - in the same way as the one
horse shay? It seems like a more human way of return to the dust from which we
came. I’m sure those slings and arrows of outrageous insult our bodies give us
as we age have a positive aspect but right now it escapes me. However, this
seems to be an appropriate memory for Lent and Ash Wednesday not too long
passed.
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