Brother Ray—Tribute to a Trembling Man
He was trembling when I first discovered him.
It was at church one Sunday, a church new to us.
The preacher asked him to say the final prayer of the morning.
That man prayed and prayed
but I could not understand a word he was saying.
He was trembling so badly.
As the months went on by I became used to this man,
Brother Ray, praying there in church;
his prayers so many could not understand.
It seemed however that quite a few
could understand this thin man of God.
Only thing was I could not,
he was trembling so badly.
I took it on myself to know this fellow.
He was in his early eighty's
with a severe case of Parkinson's disease.
On Monday nights you would find him at church visitation;
visiting every new prospect and member, as he would say.
To those homes he would go, trembling so badly.
At about age eighty-seven or so
his visiting partner and driver for sure retired
and moved away to Louisiana.
Those Monday nights now we sorely missed our Brother Ray.
Seems not one soul would step forward to help.
Were they afraid of his trembling so badly?
I felt sorry for Brother Ray so on one Tuesday afternoon
I stopped at his house to visit with him.
It wasn't planned but the words came out of my mouth,
"Brother Ray, I could take you church visiting
with me on Monday nights. Would you go?"
"Oh, y y yes s !" he said trembling so badly.
We visited together for the next ten years.
He taught me how to pray.
He taught me how to love the Lord so much more strongly.
He taught me how to tell others of what a gracious Lord we have.
And lo, I became able to understand every word he said,
even though he was trembling so badly.
Now every year Brother Ray would go hunting with his son.
Brother Ray would always shoot a deer—
no one knew how he did that, he was trembling so badly.
He told me of his family and of his wife long deceased.
He missed her so badly; I'm thinking how she could
have understood his every word
while he was trembling so badly.
At age ninety-seven he fell and broke his hip.
He recovered but couldn't get out to visit any longer.
Soon he moved into a nursing home.
All the residents and staff loved him dearly.
Some there could understand his speech even
as he was trembling so badly.
The last time I visited him was in the funeral home.
Brother Ray had died at age ninety-nine.
He always talked of reaching a hundred.
Now he talks with God there up in Heaven.
I know them both and do know that
God understands his every word.
I think my Brother Ray still trembles so badly.
God has made him whole once again but even so,
out of habit now, he may be trembling still, so badly.
Poem Copyright
© 2010 Jimmiehov
All Rights Reserved
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Labels: A Tribute, Friends, Jim's Life, One Single Impression, Poem, prose poem
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