(C)Kitty Roach

Memories Of A Cowboy

This is a picture of one of my closest friends, my cousin, William Dale Collins. Back when we were each about four, we were in my sister's wedding together, as you can see. We spent our childhoods together...when all my cousins would gather at my grandparent's house, he and I would always be on the same team, building the same tree house, or fighting with the same other cousins. When I was in about 6th grade, he moved to Texas, helping his parents run their motel business. My family visited his on the way back to Indiana many times, and I always had a wonderful time, laughing and joking with Dale. He was always determined that he was going to join the army as soon as he was old enough, and move away. When he finally did get older, his family sold the motel and moved to Kentucky, where they were going to raise horses. I guess Dale lost the dream of joining the army, but he found a new one...one that suited him to a tee. He became a real cowboy, even though I believe he always was one. I believe he had to have had it in him the whole time in order to become a real one. He loved his horse, and he was going to move out west again and become a real cowboy of the West. Dale never got to move out west, though, because the Lord had other plans for him. One evening, driving home after church late on Sunday night, he fell asleep at the wheel and was in an accident, and the Lord took him home. I don't doubt for a second that Dale is in a greater, much more wonderful place, and I know he is with Bro. Branham, probably talking about horses and the west. The last couple years of his life, he and I didn't get a long very well at all, and I'm very sorry about that, but that never stopped me from loving him, and I miss him dearly, and I can't wait until I hear him call my name again on the other side of the river, "Aw, Jenny!" just as he always did here!!

This is a poem I wrote about Dale a few months after he passed away, and I felt led to make a page especially for Dale, because he was so special!!

CHRISTIANS FALL ASLEEP

A child is born in a world so distraught,
But to worship the Lord the child is taught,
To keep God's commandments through thick and through thin,
To cherish the Word and discard the sin.

As the child grows older the parents can see
He believes in the Lord and accepts His decree.
The parents are proud and thank the Lord;
He chose this little child -on him the annointing is poured.

One day the parents enter the child's room,
They believe He took their baby away much too soon.
He was only starting life in a world so giant,
His footsteps were hardly heard, forever to stay silent.
But his passing had at least been quick,
He had felt no pain or terror and had never been sick.

The parents cry tears of a loss to terrific,
But they remember His Word that is so prolific.
All through the day and the night the Lord will keep,
Christians don't die, they fall asleep.

Throughout history His blessing has been made known,
Whether a child, an adolescent, or a man full grown.
There is no need to mourn or to cry and weep,
For even when Stephen was stoned, he was rocked to sleep.

			-Jennifer Sanger, 1997

This is another poem I found a few months back that I believe will help anyone dealing with the loss of someone close:

TO ALL PARENTS

"I'll lend you for a little time a child of Mine," He said,
"For you to love the while she lives and mourn for when she's dead.
It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two or three,
But will you, till I call her back, take care of her for Me?
She'll bring her charms to gladden you, and shall her stay be breif
You'll have her lovely memories as solace for your grief."

"I cannot promise she will stay, since allfrom earth return,
But there are lessons taught down there I want this child to learn.
I've looked the wide world over in my search for teachers true
And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes I have selected you.
Now will you give her all your love, nor think the labor vain,
Nor hate Me when I come to call to take her back again?"

I fancied that I heard them say:"Dear Lord, Thy will be done!
For all the joy Thy child shall bring, the risk of grief we'll run,
We'll shelter her with tenderness, we'll love her while we may,
And for the happiness we've known, forever grateful stay;
But shall the angels call for her much sooner than we've planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes and try to understand."

			-Edgar A. Guest
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Site created October 14, 1998
(C)Jennifer Sanger