Dear Friend:
As summer draws to an end, I am reminded of the Irish tune The Last Rose of Summer, learnt in Jesuit High School in Hong Kong decades ago, that carries an air of sadness and loneliness, the poet’s lament as a sole survivor of the loss of loved ones.
This is Part Four of the summer series on the Third World Poor. In the process of writing, I bask in God’s sunlit love, bathe in the compassion stirred within, flow with the mystery of his transformative activity, face my ego death and weep once more for the suffering poor I serve in Bangladesh, Ethiopia and Sri Lanka. There you have it in this fifth and final reflection - Soul Musings - on variations of the same theme, the touchstone of contemplation.