The Special Mission

In February of 1991, I wrote the first story about Eric Roundtail and dedicated it to Evan Ricks and his brave struggle to return home. Evan was suffering from acute leukemia and was not given much of a chance for recovery. But this brave little boy went through the full series of chemotherapy and even a bone marrow transplant. Eventually he was able to come home. Because his immune system was not really functional, he had to be kept isolated from everyone but his mother. It made things difficult, but the family was delighted to have him home again.

Eventually he was able to run and play and seemed quite happy, even though he couldn't play with other children. Then during one of his regular checkups it was discovered that the cancer was returning. Although he still felt fine, his time was very short. On January 23, 1992, Evan Ricks passed from this world to a far better one.

When I first learned that the cancer was returning and that Evan was going to have to go back to the hospital, I started thinking about a sequel to "The Journey Home." While riding back and forth to work on the light rail, I wrote down a few thoughts and parts of a new story started to take form. Things progressed well for a while and then I came to a stop. I couldn't figure out how to finish the story. While I was pondering various story lines, Evan passed away.

I began to think about his mission here on earth. As lives go his was very short. His illness really put a strain on the family but each of them will tell you that they are better for Evan having been with them. Many people were touched by Evan and his brave struggle and I'm sure that many of their lives were changed by him. What was his mission? I'm sure that I'm not wise enough to guess. But I'm sure that he had one and that he filled it admirably.

I only hope that when my time comes to leave this world, it will be said of me that I filled my mission on earth. And more than that, I hope that when it is made known to me what my mission really was that I will know that I did my best. That is all any of us can do.

This poem is also dedicated to Evan Ricks for the effect that he and his family has had on my life.

Gale L. Wolfenbarger
4 October 1992
 

The Special Mission

Perhaps you've heard the tale my friends
Of how a mouse alone
Braved miles and miles through wilderness
In search of house and home,

Of how young Eric Roundtail
Was found one sunny day
And nursed to health by Matthew Mole
And helped along his way.

Well, Eric found his way back home
To mother's loving arms,
Back to his home where life was safe
And nothing could him harm.

He said he'd never leave this place
He'd fought so hard to reach,
But we're not often allowed to choose
The lessons life will teach.

And so it was one day he heard
From friends so far away,
Of Matthew Mole who'd saved his life,
A debt he could not repay.

It seems that Matthew's only son
Was lost while hunting fruit.
He feared that he had run afoul
Of danger on his route.

He feared the owls that fly by night
Had found his only child.
He feared his son had come to harm
While lost out in the wild.

Eric thought his heart would break
As he read of Matthew's grief.
How fate had stolen his son away
Like a cruel uncaring thief.

He knew the time had come when he
Must leave his home so dear
And try to find the one now lost,
Forgetting all his fear.

He knew the way was very hard
That lead to Matthew's door,
And perils marked the path beside
The water's mighty roar.

But on he went without a thought
Of all he left behind.
All thoughts of home and Mother
Were forced out of his mind.

He passed the fall where years before
He'd nearly met his death.
Right to the place where Matthew had
Helped him catch his breath.

It wasn't long before he'd found
Matthew's cheerful place
And Matthew with his squeaky voice
And loving, happy face.

"Eric!", he said, "How good it is
To see you once again.
Whatever brings you here to me,
My good and valued friend?

"I never thought you'd leave that home
You praised for days on end.
I never thought to see your face
Or hug you once again."

Eric told how word had come
That brought him such distress.
Not home nor Mother nor fear of death
Could his love for him suppress.

So here he was and what news was there
Of Matthew's missing child?
Had the lad been found or did he still
Wander in the wild?

"The child was found just yesterday
And now was safe in bed.
He caught a chill and is bruised a bit,
But now home and safe and fed.

"He lost his way while chasing
A lovely butterfly.
Then tumbled down a slippery slope
And days he there did lie.

"Just yesterday a passing friend
Found him wandering in the dell.
His head is dazed and he's lost some weight
But I know he'll soon be well."

And so it was that Eric came
To Matthew's home once more.
And spent some time just visiting,
Remembering days of yore.

For days they went for peaceful walks
Amid the trees of green,
Remembering days now long since past
And places that they'd seen.

They talked for hours of things that had
Past since last they met
And laughed to think of that first day
With Eric cold and wet.

The days of summer slipped quickly by
As each shared things in their heart,
Each knowing that the day would come
When one would have to part.

But then one day while on a stroll,
Gathering berries in a box,
They turned to find their path was blocked
By a bushy-tailed red fox.

Eric turned and scampered down
A hole beside a tree.
His friend was not beside him now,
Oh where could Matthew be?

Then in terror he spied his friend
Dangling from the fox's teeth.
Eric knew that he was dead
His mind was numb with grief.

Never again would he see that smile
That gave his heart such cheer.
Or would his ears that squeaky voice
Be pleased again to hear.

The tears streamed down his fuzzy cheeks
And time it seemed had stopped.
He wanted to run after them
But his feet simply would not.

But as he stood and watched them go
With feelings he could not describe,
He saw an eyelid open wide,
Matthew was alive!

With courage he never knew he had
Eric bounded from the hole.
He didn't know what he would do
To rescue Matthew Mole.

But he knew that he must try
Or die himself today.
Matthew saved his life one time
And now he would repay.

The fox it seems had had her lunch
Before she found these two.
She had some cubs in need of sport,
She'd see what they would do.

So Matthew's life hung by a thread,
And probably not for long.
Could Eric find a way to right
What now seemed oh so wrong?

His legs were very short and he
Wasn't very fast.
There didn't seem to be a way,
Where ere his eyes he'd cast.

But then he spied a lemon tree
Growing by the way.
He started running like a streak
And in his heart did pray.

If he could reach the tree before
The fox had traveled past,
He had a chance, but very slim;
He'd have to hurry fast.

He never dreamed his legs could move
The way they moved just then.
He reached the tree and climbed to a branch
And waited there for them.

Just as the fox passed far beneath
Eric's perch, he dove
And landed right between her eyes,
Right on the fox's nose.

Without a moment for the fox
To recover from her fright,
Eric raced out to the end
And gave her nose a bite.

The fox let out a dreadful shriek,
A rather frightening sound.
While Eric fled her wounded nose,
Matthew hit the ground.

Before the fox's eyes could blink
Or rub her throbbing nose,
The friends were off like a shot
And through the brush they dove.

They never stopped their scampering
Until they found a hole.
And there poor Eric sat and wept
While hugging Matthew Mole.

"Matthew, I thought that you were dead,"
Said Eric through his tears.
"I never want to be so afraid,
If I live a hundred years."

"Yes, I thought my time had come,"
Said Matthew with a sigh.
Then with a grin, "I didn't know
That you knew how to fly.

"It really seems so very strange
That you should set me free.
You came to find my only child
And stayed to rescue me."

And that's the way our lives turn out
No matter how begun,
You never know just why you're here
Until your journey's done.

So when a mission comes your way,
No matter what your part,
Don't worry where your path will lead
For life is just the start.

The Lord will call you where He will,
Of this you can be sure.
He calls to those whose hands are clean
And those whose hearts are pure.

Gale L. Wolfenbarger
2 October 1992
 

Copyright © 1992 Gale L. Wolfenbargerr