“The Bridge-Builder”
by Miss Will Allen Dromgoole
Who was Miss Dromgoole? Well, the wikipedia article on her begins with this paragraph:
Will Allen Dromgoole (October 26, 1860 – September 1, 1934) was an author and poet born in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. She wrote over 7,501 poems; 5,000 essays; and published thirteen books. She was renowned beyond the South; her poem “The Bridge Builder” was often reprinted. It remains quite popular. The final stanza of the poem appears on a plaque at the Bellows Falls, VermontVilas Bridge, spanning the Connecticut River between southernVermont and New Hampshire.
This morning, I had breakfast with a friend from 50 years ago. We met on the beach of Wildwood, NJ. We lost touch but never respect. After college, I joined the staff of of Campus Crusade for Christ (now CRU) and he the staff of Wycliffe Bible Translators. I became a pastor, Dave now serves with Harvestors, another missons agency. When I left California after seminary to plant a church in Bolingbrook, IL our paths crossed again when he walked though the doors on our first Sunday. Dave became one of our elders before he moved from the area, but remained a friend and a confidant over the years. When I moved to South Carolina, our paths crossed again. Dave lives only about 20 minutes away and we have had breakfast together about every two months or so to encourage one another and catch up on one another’s families. Back to this morning.
We are talking about our grandchildren now and the command they have over our hearts. We are talking about how to leave a legacy and how to help them find their way in the world. Dave told me of a poem by Miss Dromgoole that has energized his life for over four decades (see below).
The Bridge-Builder
An old man, going a lone highway,
Came at the evening, cold and gray,
To a chasm, vast and deep and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim—
That sullen stream had no fears for him;
But he turned, when he reached the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.
“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim near,
“You are wasting strength in building here,
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again must pass this way.
You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide.
Why build you the bridge at the eventide?”
The builder lifted his old gray head.
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followeth after me today
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm that has been naught to me
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building the bridge for him.”
Would you pray for both Dave and me?
We know we are in the twilight of life and our one desire is to finish well and leave a legacy for others to follow.
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