As I gazed at him, a man many years my senior bathed in the light of the waning day, a poignant sadness came over me at the prospect of his death. “How I will miss him when he is gone,” came to my lips, which I repeated over and over to myself. That morning he and I had a heated argument. But as I looked at him slowly trudging across the field, what we had argued about shrank to its proper insignificance. Because I beheld him bathed in his mortality, I was able to see him in the light of eternity. For the first time in my life, I could perceive a deep goodness in this man, buried beneath a
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