Diagnosis -- Leprosy

One hundred years ago right now,
A man named Arthur showed somehow,
Which started him on downward slope
To death from leprosy – no hope.

His dad had had it years before,
He'd lived in shack outside their door,
And farmed each day while he was well;
When blind, sons helped his land to till.

His mom died young, dad went away;
With brother, went the homestead way;
Out west in the Wadina turf,
They broke the Prairie grassland earth.

Then diagnosis from the Doc
His plans for life of farming rocked;
Stunned – he emerged, bewildered he –
His diagnosis – leprosy.

A teacher there saw him emerge
From doctor's office, mind submerged
Beneath the news – “It could not be
That I've the dreaded leprosy!”

That teacher once his cousin met
And told how he'd been stunned, and yet
He'd headed home to his new farm –
Slipped quietly away – no harm.

Then Arthur went to B.C. coast,
To quarantine, for diagnosed
He was a risk to others then
If he stayed around his kin and friends.

He later moved to Darcy Isle;
He lived with six Chinese a while,
Then, spirited away one night,
He and his brother took to flight.

They went to Careville, USA
Where lepers were, nuns let him stay;
He died some years beyond that date,
At twenty-three he met his fate.

My grandma's cousin – he's the one
My book for sister will be done;
An H-F book – write as I please
As Spirit moves, and Spirit frees.

A father – Son with leprosy;
My father – I, both cancer – see?
A parallel emerges here
Between our contexts – more appears –

In missions both dads did their work;
Third-Culture-Kids on prairie turf;
One hundred years apart are we –
My leper kin compared to me.

So what's the theme of book I’ll write?
Depends what else I find that's right,
Then weave around those solid facts
A yarn, and theme, as Spirit acts.

He calls himself a ‘pagan’ lad –
Was that in just re: what he had?
Or did it just refers to church –
Found could not go – by that was hurt?

I guess I'll have to dig around,
And see what letters can be found,
Or artefacts, or oral words,
Can shed some light on what I've heard.

There was a chaplain at the end,
In touch with northern kin and friends;
So maybe there was struggle there
As he for death his soul prepared.

At this point I prefer no theme
To violate his life, but mean
More than a tale of leprosy,
Which helps us more of life to see.

I guess for me it will be part
Of how I'd fare within his heart;
How I'd react – we can't know him –
But Spirit-walk where he has been.

Perhaps I'll have some folks outside,
Like Christ for painter – face then hide;
Let facing actors then reflect
The leper facing they respect.

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