Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind, but now I see.
"God, if you can hear me, I wanna believe 'n You. 'Cause this life ain't suitin me. It just ain't right."
He kneeled before the candles, and they flickered as his breath flowed past them. It seemed as though the candles were listening to him, nodding, a silent affirmative of his words. Brushing dark hair out of fathomless eyes, the young man prayed out loud, comforted by hearing his voice echo in the empty church.
"And I know I ain't been the best a' people for Ya, but, if you'll believe this, somethin' happened taday. I jus' hope I ain't imaginin' things wot 'appened ta me, cause it was good."
He just needed to hear the words out loud. He was still a bit skeptical about this God stuff; he couldn't deny that. But it sounded good when he overheard it that evening. And even in the bitter cold, he felt warmed by the security.
But was it true?
"But ya know, God, ev'n though I ain't the richest, or the best talker, and I don't know if I'm even prayin' right, I just feel better believin' I'm not… I ain't searchin' anymore."
The young man's hands were stained with the print of the newspapers he carried daily, his mind was full of worries, his clothes were tattered, but for some reason he felt like royalty in the presence of the candles, and the silence.
He paused, and though there was no wind, the candles continued to flicker smilingly at him. He smiled back.
Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Though he had many thoughts running through his brain, the man who was still a boy remained silent for a time. After a while, he knew not how long, he rose and made a slow pilgrimage around the church, admiring the paintings and decorations. God, he thought, must be good if the people revered Him so as to make a place for Him so beautiful.
Unable to resist a sudden urge to explain himself, maybe to…justify himself, the young man turned back to the altar and kneeled.
"God, sometime' I don' know where I'm goin' or who I am. To the boys, I'm Bumlets, to my momma I was Dominic. To myself, I think maybe I'm jus' both. But I ain't sure, God, and maybe that's where I started ta steer wrong. Standin' outside this church, listenin' to the end o' the service, I felt somethin' surge through me. It was like a sign, even if I don' believe in them things."
He paused in respectful remembrance for the priest's beautiful, flowing words; words spoken in a deep, velvety voice that seemed to carry all the answers any one man could ever ask.
"Ya know, thinkin' back, there is so many times I coulda died. But I didn'. Maybe it was You, God. I hope so.
Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
"I wanna know, God, one thing. How come the young ones always die? How come the good ones always die? An' how come the ones who don' desoive to even walk the earth always seem to live on, spreading their sorrow? Why can't the good ones stay? Stay, and live? Why do they always gotta go? Why do good boys, boys who shoulda grown old, always die when we least expect it? Why…"
He trailed off, feeling a rushing, calming sense of reassurance; a feeling that slowed his pounding heart and reopened his throat.
And when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
And so he knew. The ones who die young, the ones who die, seemingly undeserving to do so, are the ones who died because they deserved more. The ones who die young are the ones who deserve the Heavens and the Earth, not just the earth.
"Somethin' tells me, God, that life will be…Maybe not bettah, but diff'rent somehow from now on. It always seemed like, when things got really outta control, that I felt like I was all alone. Somehow dat feelin' is gone, replaced by one that tells me I'm surrounded by one person, if that's possible. I guess it must be, since You seem to surround the world. An'…"
He paused, unsure even with himself and God, how to express what he felt.
"It makes me feel safe." He chuckled almost inaudibly. "I ain't felt safe fer a long time."
Bumlets smiled. He sat in a pew in the first row. He looked around. It was nice, in a way, to have the feeling that this life was not his only chance. He could change, and continue on in peace, even if it took him his whole life to find that peace. He wondered briefly how he could have ever had doubts about this feeling he had, but instead he found himself thinking about, oddly enough, the sun.
When we've been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun,
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.
"I've lived my whole life, God, not knowin'. I didn' know You. I didn' even know You this mornin'. But I have this feelin', this feelin' that comes, maybe from the sun; 'cause I always thought, whenever one of the Catholic newsies would briefly mention Heaven, that we couldn' see it 'cause it tucked itself behind the sun. This feelin' tells me that it ain't too late. It ain't too late for me to believe in You, as long as I do someday.
Feeling a satisfying rush of sanctuary, Bumlets stood. With one last, longing, thankful look at the flickering, melting candles that lay before him, he smiled a slow, tantalizing grin.
At peace at last, he exited the church. And as he left, a steady breath of wind blew through the closed and sealed church, extinguishing the candles and leaving the church in a calm, sultry, Holy darkness.
And just like the night Bumlets walked into, it was a darkness full of light.
{End-Notes}
As we both know, Bumlets is a character; Dominic is the real person. And yet we believe that as "Amazing Grace" is his favorite hymn, perchance he would have liked to portray someone who lived the tale it told. Perhaps he lived the tale himself.
His family, if they ever read this, should know that their son, brother, uncle, and godfather, and what have you, is loved and remembered by all fans of Newsies, Roundhouse, and most of all, fans of talent, grace, and love.
To his parents: Your son, talented as he was, was not perfect, a fact you know much better than we do. And yet, it seems it's his faults, his small quirks that make him all the more beautiful in everyone's eyes.
Know this: Your son, up in Heaven with God, will dance into Eternity, and dance he will when he meets you again.
We will pray for him, and for your peace.
God Bless,
Chelsea "Glimmer" and Amanda "Skittles": Skimmers Conlon O'Leary Meyers
And when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veilA life of joy and peace
(Dance, then, wherever you may be,
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he,
and I'll lead you all, wherever you may be,
and I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he
They cut me down, and I leapt up high;
I am the life that'll never, never die;
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he..)
{Take one day at a time}
