Of your charity, please pray for the repose of the soul of my uncle and godfather Barnabas ("Barney") Padmore who died twenty-five years ago to-day. I wish terribly that he'd lived if, for no other reason than he had finally found the desire to do so. Otherwise, I can think of no other words to say than those of the hymn that was sung at his funeral and which words were inscribed upon his headstone:
And all through the mountains, thunder-riven,
And up from the rocky steep,
There rose a cry to the gates of heaven,
"Rejoice! I have found my sheep!"
And the Angels echoed around the throne,
"Rejoice, for the LORD brings back his own!"
Number 584 in The English Hymnal.
Memory eternal.
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