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And now I had to run to keep up with the Ragman.
Though he was weeping uncontrollably, and bleeding freely at the
forehead, pulling his cart with one arm, stumbling for drunkenness,
falling again and again, exhausted, old, old, and sick, yet he went with
terrible speed. On spider’s legs he skittered through the alleys of
the City, this mile and the next, until he came to its limits, and then
he rushed beyond. I wept to see the change in this man. I hurt to see
his sorrow. And yet I needed to see where he was going in such haste,
perhaps to know what drove him so. The little old Ragman
- he came to a landfill. He came to the garbage pits. And then I wanted
to help him in what he did, but I hung back, hiding. He climbed a hill.
With tormented labor he cleared a little space on that hill. Then he
sighed. He lay down. He pillowed his head on a handkerchief and a
jacket. He covered his bones with an army blanket. And he died. Oh, how
I cried to witness that death! I slumped in a junked car and wailed and
mourned as one who has no hope - because I had come to love the Ragman.
Every other face had faded in the wonder of this man, and I cherished
him; but he died. I sobbed myself to sleep. I did not know - how could I
know? - that I slept through Friday night and Saturday and its night,
too. But then, on Sunday morning, I was wakened by a violence. Light -
pure, hard, demanding light - slammed against my sour face, and I
blinked, and I looked, and I saw the last and the first wonder of all.
There was the Ragman,
folding the blanket most carefully, a scar on his forehead, but alive!
and, besides that, healthy! There was no sign of sorrow nor of age, and
all the rags that he had gathered shined for cleanliness. Well, then I
lowered my head and trembling for all that I had seen, I myself walked
up to the Ragman.
I told him my name with shame, for I was a sorry figure next to him.
Then I took off all my clothes in that place, and I said to him with
dear yearning in my voice: “Dress me.” He dressed me. My Lord - he
put new rags on me, and I am a wonder beside him. The Ragman,
the Ragman,
the Christ!
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