I received some sorrowful news today, and in all truth, I cannot understand why I feel saddened at the death of one I hardly knew.
I have spent more than my share of time in the Shattered Skull, and listened, while I had my supper to the Rangers and others talking at the tables nearby. And though I have at times offered a quip, or chortled a bit at some of the remarks made, I have never gone so far as to attempt forming any friendships with any from the group.
The Rangers are very different from me, and in fact bear little resemblance to those I knew in the Rangers of the Heart. Both groups call Spiritwood home, both have a deep and reverent love of the forests and lands around Skara Brae.
But where Aly and her folks were light of heart and jovial, those of Spiritwood’s Rangers are a bit terser and aloof. They are close enough to one another I suppose and perhaps with a small number of close acquaintances. But like those of ROH they are quick to one another’s defense, and though they may from time to time disagree, always it seems they were able to find some common ground. They are all in all a good group of people deserving of respect and some praise.
And so, the news of the passing of the Ranger named Katalin touched my heart, and set me to once more thinking on the fragile nature of life. It is sad to hear of the passing of anyone. More so when the life that has ended is a young life cut short before her full promise could be recognized.
It is often said that all of us has a fire which burns within us. Some of us tend these fires and allow them to grow into a roaring flame which reaches out and touches all around us. And through some of the darker points of our lives, when all seems lost. It is that spark within us that can reignite our passion for living.
And when we die, as in time we all must do so. I do not believe as some do that the spark of that being, their fire dies out fully. Those who have kindled relationships with others, who moved among others doing not only great deeds, but any act, small or large which made a difference in the life of another. Their fire does not die, but is passed on to those they have encountered.
I choose to believe that Katalin’s spark has not been extinguished. And that her fire lives on in the hearts and minds of all whose lives she touched in some way. And that even as the fires of Beltane replenish the hopes of many, and make new the promise of nature as we move into the long months of summer, that her flame lives on in the trees, rocks, brooks and that those of Spiritwood will not grieve over much, but remember instead her smile, her laugh and the spirit of the Ranger which burned deep inside her.
I have spent more than my share of time in the Shattered Skull, and listened, while I had my supper to the Rangers and others talking at the tables nearby. And though I have at times offered a quip, or chortled a bit at some of the remarks made, I have never gone so far as to attempt forming any friendships with any from the group.
The Rangers are very different from me, and in fact bear little resemblance to those I knew in the Rangers of the Heart. Both groups call Spiritwood home, both have a deep and reverent love of the forests and lands around Skara Brae.
But where Aly and her folks were light of heart and jovial, those of Spiritwood’s Rangers are a bit terser and aloof. They are close enough to one another I suppose and perhaps with a small number of close acquaintances. But like those of ROH they are quick to one another’s defense, and though they may from time to time disagree, always it seems they were able to find some common ground. They are all in all a good group of people deserving of respect and some praise.
And so, the news of the passing of the Ranger named Katalin touched my heart, and set me to once more thinking on the fragile nature of life. It is sad to hear of the passing of anyone. More so when the life that has ended is a young life cut short before her full promise could be recognized.
It is often said that all of us has a fire which burns within us. Some of us tend these fires and allow them to grow into a roaring flame which reaches out and touches all around us. And through some of the darker points of our lives, when all seems lost. It is that spark within us that can reignite our passion for living.
And when we die, as in time we all must do so. I do not believe as some do that the spark of that being, their fire dies out fully. Those who have kindled relationships with others, who moved among others doing not only great deeds, but any act, small or large which made a difference in the life of another. Their fire does not die, but is passed on to those they have encountered.
I choose to believe that Katalin’s spark has not been extinguished. And that her fire lives on in the hearts and minds of all whose lives she touched in some way. And that even as the fires of Beltane replenish the hopes of many, and make new the promise of nature as we move into the long months of summer, that her flame lives on in the trees, rocks, brooks and that those of Spiritwood will not grieve over much, but remember instead her smile, her laugh and the spirit of the Ranger which burned deep inside her.