Mincey’s Musings
Year Two, Week Twenty-Eight

Job 14:7-9

Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind;
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
--John Donn

(https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/john_donne_136861).

This famous quote serves as a grim reminder that death comes for us all. I have within the past month attended the funeral of a friend from church (he was in his late sixties) and the receiving of friends for one of my former fifth grade students (in his late thirties). Death is always tragic, but even more so when a child is involved. Just this week a rising fifth grade student in our school system passed away.

This child’s passing caused me to remember several years ago when I was asked to accompany one of our school system’s elementary students on the Roho shopping spree. (Please go on Internet and type “Roho Fishing Tournament” in the search engine; click on the link “History” to find out more information about this worthy program.) In short, the proceeds from a fishing tournament are used to provide Christmas shopping sprees to economically disadvantaged children in local elementary schools.

The young man I assisted was a friendly, happy, intelligent boy. It was a privilege to spend part of my day with him. I was deeply saddened to hear of his death just a short while afterward. Many of the thoughts that ran through my mind as I looked at his sweet, innocent face in his casket are beautifully expressed in the following poem:

Little Boy Blue

The little toy dog is covered with dust,
   But sturdy and stanch he stands;
 The little toy soldier is red with rust,
   And his musket molds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new,
   And the soldier was passing fair;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
   Kissed them and put them there.

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
   "And don't you make any noise!"
So, toddling off to his trundle-bed,
   He dreamt of the pretty toys;
And, as he was dreaming, an angel song
   Awakened our Little Boy Blue---
Oh! the years are many, the years are long,
   But the little toy friends are true!

Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
   Each in the same old place---
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
   The smile of a little face;
And they wonder, as waiting the long years through
   In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue,
   Since he kissed them and put them there.

I’ve read a respectable amount of poetry, but to me this is the saddest poem ever penned. It was written by Eugene Field, originally published April 7, 1888. Some scoff at this piece of literature because of its sentimentality. Perhaps that is what is wrong in today’s world—there is not enough sentiment expressed between all of us fellow travelers on our planet.

The toys that belonged to the toddler in this poem, though the years reduced them to dust and rust, were still where Little Boy Blue “kissed” and “put” them before he toddled off to his trundle bed. Even in his sleep he “dreamt” of the “pretty” toys. What a sweet child he must have been to have loved so deeply! This child might have enjoyed a nursery rhyme about another Little Boy Blue, the one with the sheep in the meadow, the cow in the corn.

Though his beloved toys faithfully wait, how sad it is to know their owner will never return. It’s just as sad to know that had he lived to adulthood, no other human could have been as faithful to Little Boy Blue as were his inanimate toys. They and their young master share the same fate—all will return to the elements from which they were made.

It is also sad to think that his family and friends went on to live the rest of their lives, while these beloved objects expressed their true devotion and love for their little owner by remaining immobile. But how sweetly this speaks of Little Boy Blue’s mother. How she must have loved him, to provide him with toys he loved so well. Little Boy Blue, like his toys, was once “new” and “fair” to her, and her heart grieved so much at his passing that she left his toys for so many years in the “same old place” he left them. Perhaps she hoped, as did the toys, that some miracle would bring her Little Boy Blue back to her!

But even in death Little Boy Blue lives (“. . . as he was dreaming, an Angel song awakened our Little Boy Blue—“)! “Oh! The years are many” and “long” for those of us who remain. But one day the same “Angel song” that “awakened” Little Boy Blue will be sung for each and every one of us, and if we have professed that childlike faith we will join all the saved little boy blues in one long, endless day. Job 14: 7-9 (KJV) reads: “ For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease.  Though the root thereof wax old in the earth, and the stock thereof die in the ground;  Yet through the scent of water it will bud, and bring forth boughs like a plant.

But what about the toys? I remember many years ago reading the “My Answer” column in the newspaper. A child was heartbroken when a pet died and wrote the Rev. Dr. Billy Graham, asking if he would see his pet in Heaven. Dr. Graham replied to the effect that all things find their reward in God. Colossians 2:2 (KJV) speaks of the mysteries of God: “That their hearts might be comforted, being knit together in love, and unto all riches of the full assurance of understanding, to the acknowledgement of the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ;”. Matthew 19:26 (KJV) says “. . . with men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

I live with one who recently lost her Little Boy Blue. For a few magic years, he was also my Little Boy Blue. We miss him. I have a Bible on my desk that was given to him by his first grade teacher Betty McBee from which I can read the words of King David recorded in 2 Samuel 12:22-23 (KJV): “. . . While the child was yet alive, I . . . said, Who can
tell whether GOD will be gracious . . . that the child may live? But now he is dead . . . can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he shall not return to me.”

Thank you, Faithful Reader, for allowing me to share these somber thoughts with you for the past two weeks. Next week, I turn to more cheerful thoughts.