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Devotional Circuits |
ShortyBy Robert RueschRead Matthew 16:26Shorty wasn't much taller than a range fence post and some say not much smarter - at times. But Shorty was a man of honesty and honor and on the ranch that counted for a lot more than stature. When Shorty came to the Lazy Bar B he was hired on as a ranch hand and given the job of cleaning the horse and cattle stalls. Not much of a job in status but one of necessity. "I ain't much in height, but I do what is required" he would say. Of course the usual nicknames were always bantered when Shorty was around, Shortstack, Stump, Runt, and the like. It wasn't known where Shorty was from and few knew his real God given name, he was simply known as, Shorty. The owners of the ranch took more than the usual liking to him and he and the owner's children became close and fast friends. He would teach the young ones to rope, ride, and fish and best of all wonder. "Did ya ever wonder where all them stars came from?" he would ask after an evening of dinner, coffee and cards. (Shorty loved card games, but only when played for fun, not money or other ranch hands loss of personal items.) "Did ya ever wonder what made them so purtty and bright," he would muse. Shorty would tilt his head back and his beat up hat would almost fall of, or you would think he would fall over by tilting back so far... and he would gaze at the night sky for the longest time. "Ya know, a man can see on land for maybe twenty to fifty miles," he would announce scratching his unshaved chin. "But when you look at them heavenly stars, well, they have to be a lot more than 50 miles away and you can see them clear as kin be. Kinda makes a person wonder, don't you think?" Shorty would ponder a few minutes longer and then amble off to the bunkhouse. One day, during calf branding, one of the other ranch hands started asking Shorty questions about his past, where he was from and what was his real name was he running from something or someone. Shorty didn't answer for a long time, as this was the type of question only asked when the inquirer was willing to challenge the person. "I reckon it isn't any of your business, and I thank you to keep your questions to yourself." Shorty rebuffed and reached for another branding iron. As things sometime happen violence struck in a heartbeat, then there was one less soul. The other ranch hand had given a serious challenge and Shorty responded, only to see a final black powder flash as he reached for a branding iron with the same hand he would have reached for his six shooter. The other ranch hand thought Shorty was going to fire his gun in response to the questions and he fired his gun first. That was it, just miss-communication, plain and simple. Shorty slumped to the ground never to move again, cows and their offspring scattered and other ranch hands ran to see what had happened at the sound of the gunshot. What they found was one ranch hand, gun drawn, and Shorty dead with a branding iron in his gun hand and a lot of confusion. They buried Shorty that same day on the range in a pauper's grave with his name on a hastily carved board. No one knew of any relatives, kin or friends, Shorty had come in with the wind and left the same way. The only memory of Shorty was now back at the bunk house, a sleeping bag, some personal items, a few shirts and saddle bag containing some papers and an old photo album. Some of the ranch hands wanted to play cards and gamble for Shorty's meager possessions. But they remembered that Shorty didn't like gambling so they decided to look through the saddlebag see what was there, and then give his belongings to whoever wanted or needed them. It became unimportant who took or received what, but the contents of the saddlebag became very interesting. Several letters had been returned un-read, addressed to a Mrs. Linda Beckett and daughter along with a photo album that contained a few tattered faded and worn pictures of a man much younger and much happier. One picture in particular showed three people, a proud and smiling family man with his arm around a well-dressed woman and a small child held in Shorty's arm, perched on his hip. This was a portrait of a happier time in Shorty's life no one had and knowledge about. There were several other pictures in the album, with all three people involved in some family activity. But there were more blank pages than ones filled with photographs of happy people. The ranch hands looked over the photo eulogy passing the album around. As each person looked at the pictures of history captured and a happier time, an envelope fell to the floor. The writing on the envelope simply stated, "Open when I am gone - Shorty" The handwriting on the envelope was simple, but with style. The envelope was passed from one ranch hand to another, each not wanting to be the one to find out what it contained. It was as if they were now challenging the past facts to come forward and no one wanted to know any more. Shorty was gone, he had been someone different than the ranch hand that cleaned the stables and made the children wonder about the stars. Gone was the person who wouldn't play cards for money or possessions. It was as if his life came down to this envelope with the instructions to open at his death. The envelope protested at the invasion . There was only one page. It said: Dear Friend; I call you that, although I might not know you, because you have found my final thoughts. Thank you for taking the time to read them. I don't know how I died or where, and that is not important, what is important is what I lived for. When I was a young man I was successful in business and thought I could have the whole world my way by buying what I needed. If I didn't have enough money, I would earn by sometimes honest, and more than sometimes-dishonest, ways the money to get what I wanted. I had a beautiful house, fine things in the house, a wife who loved me, and a little girl who was my whole world. Those things are gone now because of my greed, my cheating and my thievery. I wanted it all, and I didn't realize I had it all. So I cheated on business deals, and I gambled. That is where my life ended up; cheating in cards as well as business, and that affected my personal life. I lost my wife and child when I was caught cheating in cards. I shot a man, not dead, but a shooting is a shooting. I went to jail for twenty years. When I was released, I didn't have a wife or a child to go to - they were gone forever. My business was taken over by the very persons I had cheated in business deals. So I traveled to wherever you are reading this letter, cowpokin' along the way to earn enough money to live on. Please give my personal things to people who need them. You see I did have power. It was with my family, not in the money and business deals. The power was within. God had given me a loving family and a wonderful daughter and I bet it all against cheating, lying and gambling. I lost it all. For twenty years I never saw a sunset, the stars or the moon. The prison guards allowed me to go outside for only an hour a day, but during daylight only. So now, when I would look at the stars - I see two things. First is God's forgiveness and love in the twinkling of the stars, and the other is a hope somewhere my child and her mother are looking up at the same time, seeing the stars or moon. Somehow it makes me feel a little closer to where ever they are. Thank you for taking the time to read this letter, give away my things and put me to a final rest, I am obliged. One other thing I would ask of you. In your travels if you happen to cross paths with my daughter and wife, tell them I loved them to the end. Give them the album and this letter. Tell them or they will know I'm gone, and that is enough said. For you, friend - take the example of my life, change yours. Love God, find your family tells them you love them and don't go through life cheating, lying and gambling. All it gets you is in trouble and maybe an early grave. I am sorry for what I did but sorrier for what my life did to the two I loved most. They need to know that. I thank you for your time, your hospitality and your honesty. Shorty *** The ranch hand folded the letter, took the photo album and placed them in the saddlebag that had been Shorty's. He stood, adjusted his hat, and took his long coat from the rack by the door of the bunkhouse. He picked up this saddle, looked around and said, "Well gents, I guess I better be a'lookin' for Shorty's family, they will need to know it's over." He opened the door and walked out. It was dusk and the first star of the evening could be seen just over the blue and gold horizon. "Thanks Shorty" he thought, "I guess you will help me find the way." |
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