December 97
A moment only, I beg of you to hear this praise to a man touched oft' with the gifts of a mentor. Luminous, he shines in his enthusiasm, leaping past obstacles without sight. Treading easily this path as he pulls and prods and cajoles the one called I down the fork in the road that few dare take. Encouraging, he grins so easily as he pushes me yet further to grow and test wings so frail that seldom have flown. Concern darkens his eyes as I emerse myself blindly in unrequited love, and he gentles the tears I weep with soft voice and true caring, lifting me above my pain to something better. I see his devotion to God, to family, to those of us struggling to follow his lead, and it strengthens me as mere words cannot. Mentor, mine, thank you for believing in me when I knew not how.
Copyright 1997, 1998 Tara TambollioBack to Scraps.