DAY FOUR

What is a Ragamuffin anyway?

Webster says it’s a ragged, oafish person…a ragged disreputable person, poorly clothed, often a child.

That’s me…well at least it is me when I try to wrap myself up in all the glorious works my hands have created for myself. And I’ve always felt that my figs leaves were a lot nicer than a whole bunch of other fig leaves I had seen.

But come to find out…there ain’t nothing new under the sun…the thing that has been will be again…and all that piss and vinegar pride I wore as my youthful crown was nothing more than a bunch of leaves and grass that withered and dried up…not even enough kindling to make a good fire…and it left me cold and naked.

And then I got invited to this most wonderful feast I’d ever been to and this incredibly kind groom gave me a beautiful suit of clothes to wear to his wedding…and I haven’t been cold or naked since…except…well…let’s say that I’m still a ragamuffin at heart but I’ve got a good benefactor who despite my shortcomings, covers for me when I’m wandering a little by the side of the road.

Now not all that wander are lost you know. I’ve met a few good friends on the side of that road…one is a former priest and struggling alcoholic and another is a beautiful soul who no longer sings on this earth…and meeting them both has made my life fuller.

Rich was a stranger in this land and on this road to righteousness, although we falter in our steps, he always knew we were never out of reach of aid. And I remember what Susan said: How love is found in the things we’ve given up more than in the things that we have kept. And when home is just another place where you’re a stranger and far away is just somewhere you’ve never been, I hope that I remember, he was my friend.

And Brennan, God love him, Brennan showed me the valley of desolation far away from the Hallelujahs of piety. And introduced me to a gospel made for the weak and sinful with hereditary faults and feet of clay. He wrote and spoke for the smart among us that know we are stupid and the honest among us who admit that we are scalawags and ragamuffins and misfits.

And as the Caterpillar said to Alice: Who are YOU?

@ 2010 Joseph Ricciardi Jr