Heaven and hell wait for the young. Heaven and hell hover beyond the ocean before us and the sky spreading above us.

So the sun shines in the Garden of Pain. In the Garden of Discovery.

He saw the face of his brother on Thanksgiving night, saw Jim,s sad weary eyes, and his heart broke, as if his brother were more important than God himself, or God himself was speaking through Jim as he might speak through anyone put in our inevitable or accidental path, anyone who threatened to call us back to ourselves, who looked at us with eyes that reflected a heart as broken as our own, as fragile, as disappointed.

The wind was icing him now all over. His ears were cold and the fingers with which he covered his face were so cold he could scarce move them. And yet it felt so good, so lovely, lovely as it felt to feel nothing like this at all when the wolf garb protected him.

He turned and looked back again at the house, at the high ivy-covered walls, and the smoke from the chimneys winding skyward - to be snatched by the wind, to be dissolved into invisibility.

Dear God, help me. Do not forget me on this tiny cinder lost in a galaxy that is lost - a heart no bigger than a speck of dust beating, beating against death, against meaninglessness, against guilt, against sorrow.

He did lean into the wind; he did let it hold him there, and keep him from falling into space, keep him from tumbling down over the balustrade and cliff, down and down and down towards the rocky surf.

He took a deep breath, and the tears came into his eyes, and he felt them blasted off his cheeks by this same wind that was supporting him.

"Lord, forgive me my blasphemous soul," he whispered, his voice breaking. "But I thank You with all my heart for the gift of life, for all the blessings You have rained down upon me, for the miracle of life in all its forms - and Lord, I thank You for the Wolf Gift!"

The End



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