For Trinity, and all the Trinitys in this world.
I had been saving this 1808 Irish folk song by Irish poet Thomas Moore for something regarding my own little girl. When I read about Trinity as well as her family I decided to use it here. She was not my daughter, but she was someone’s little girl.
I did not know her or her family. I merely have children. I have a father’s heart.
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly today,
Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will;
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,
That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear.
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close:
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets
The same look which she turned when he rose.
When I walked across the street this morning on personal business and was about to enter the building from which Trinity’s life ended I came across this simple bouquet in the street where she was found Sunday evening.
I looked up into the cold, grey October sky towards the top of the thirteen story building and then back down to the flowers resting on the curb. Putting my hands inside my coat pockets I walked away, praying for Trinity, her family and friends. Suddenly more than anything else I wanted to hug my children, especially my little girl who while wearing fairy wings and a crown loves to sing. Just as Trinity did.
I’ll hug all three of them tonight, even my high school senior boy-almost-a-man. I hope my daughter will agree to sing a song with me.
No fairy wings required.