The Family Mourns for their Child
Many came to visit Mary and John Mulligan in their humble home; others sat in bay just outside their doorsteps. More country residents came by torch when the night draped its darkly shade over the region. They came to pay homage and see the fallen parents, the wayward children, and the blessed child of Daniel. It was a village loss; it was a community loss; the bond's connected; the shared loss, shared their own. The mantle of Heaven in some manner had yet dripped the light of its faith down upon this scene.
The tears would flow from every direction; the drought of a river would not come this evening. Daniel would be remembered as someone who should have been. Memories replaced rather by what loss became. You will drop your eyes in prayer; ask God for intervention; give home to heart and lift the spirit higher than it could fly on its own now. Somewhere the message flies about, uncalled for; looking for someone to hear what it has to say. You will listen; John and Mary Mulligan wish to hear the reasons.
Little Daniel lay in his intended tiny bed all the night through. No comfort lay there. Only dreams now made impossible. Still they came from near and far. The news quickly spread; still they came. There was love wherever eyes could meet and connect.
Women wept at Daniel's little altar.
Heaven must have shed a tear as well.
The fog and mist and clouds and sprays and small drizzle and chilled, cold wet dews all came in a barrage and calamity this very night – as if to bring further emotion upon the scene. Still; Daniel did not move, but lay quietly like in some sleep; a sleep that only God alone could wake him from.
Our little hole of earth can only show so much; make our view somehow small. The clergy say as much; there are purposes unknown; the equation somehow incomplete. We best manage if we forget; or in the least, let time heal what wounds will fester longest. Is there another answer? Will, in Truth, little Daniel rise when the sun also comes up in the morning? Can John and Mary Mulligan dream in their sleep that Daniel will be in restless play within his bed when they awake? Will tomorrow show all this to be a fake matter when sunrise is born the next day? Perhaps they will awake; you will see, and rise to find him there; not still, but blinking eyes, a transposed smile, a tiny heart to beat, legs to kick about, and arms to lift high in want to be held. Then, in all, little Daniel was only born asleep and has come into the world a little delayed.
Many villagers embraced the family till the day fell into another evening. Touches never failed to bring the Mulligan's warmth.
The beat of a nation, a village was sure. Still; life can go on.
There it comes; daylight breached the darkness to cast out tomorrow's first strays of light. The birds played in the meadows; so did the sheep and cattle too. The morning came higher yet; the cold sun tried to warm everyone about, including the family Mulligan's collective hearts.
The day was biting cold; a bitter wake that cursed all that moved. Smoke and shadows; mist and sprinkles came from all who breathed to exhale. Still; little Daniel did not move. There were no shadows and smoke and mist and sprinkles for him this morning. You will see; somehow Heaven wishes to fool us further.
He will rise; wait and see.
There are no lasting tears in Christian land. There are only memories of this sorrow that will evolve into some manner of joys.
They caught sleep, but only for a little bit. There, alone in this cold and drafty house they called home; only briefly to be alone and intimate as this mourning family should. Here, in this span of space and time, they all wept collectively as a family suffering terrible loss. Surrounding the small crib of Daniel and stretching their looks, thoughts, and hearts all round him as he lay.
Still; even now, Daniel did not move.
Mary carried the heaviest weight; her eyes crept to his seat and so staggered with a tearful expression; the bond of mother and child still remained.
I know now Heaven will collapse in tears. There, you see? The clouds and shadows formed and moved in from the east; softly, gently rolling through and breaking the sunrise from its light. The buckets of rain were nearing with these clouds now folding on top of one another. The cold cursed them with its still, frosted air; the drizzle fell, of soft pedals at first, then with pellets which drowned the ground from its dryness.
Still they came, from all ways and places; the hoards of people; hearts heavy and dripping with their own snow. The air froze what rain initially fell. Now, but very soon, the sleet would fall and cry on its own terms.
By wagon, by horseback, by foot - all in unified mass, they approached.
Today little Daniel will go from life to underneath earth.
You will see.
Heaven now will surely change the course. The clergy did follow with robe and Bible; stiff dispositions and faces in all; heads down low and sniffing the lower air as it froze their beards into white bristles.