Russell G. Robison

NOVEMBER

In this month we call November, I have many anniversaries. Most of them come from a distant time, branded in my heart as I grew to be a man and learned the realities of this world. Perhaps the enemy was aware of our holidays, for in my time there, they always spoke to us in harsh ways upon them. They are filled with moments of grief, joy, and sadness, and yet, always hope has remained. Those torn from us are indelibly etched inside, and though they are a lesson of what was, and what shouldn’t be, they have not ruled my life, more than that, they have been a reminder of the greatness within us.

So tonight as I sit here in the silence and watch the parade of faces and names return, again I think of the kindness in them, and I dream of a better day. I know not why the words come, or from where. I have often thought they are their words, whispering in the night to tell me they are still here, and have never left, and I have the duty to simply pass them on. I do not know, but it is a thought that comforts me. I was humbled long ago by the willing sacrifice of those around me, and I have always kept the lessons they taught very close to my heart. I learned that it is indeed the ‘giving’ that marks the road to God, for it is only then that we ever truly receive.