Maria Shriver (who knows something about personal loss and tragedy) recited this poem at Tim Russert's memorial on MSNBC this afternoon. As someone myself who knows something about personal losses, I found it very moving and comforting.
The Little Ship
I stood watching as the little ship sailed out to sea. The setting sun tinted his white sails with a golden light, and as he disappeared from sight a voice at my side whispered, "He is gone".
But the sea was a narrow one. On the farther shore a little band of friends had gathered to watch and wait in happy expectation. Suddenly they caught sight of the tiny sail and, at the very moment when my companion had whispered, "He is gone" a glad shout went up in joyous welcome, "Here he comes!"
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