Holding Yet His Sword - GregRobin Smith, Sir Brand (again)

Holding Yet His Sword - GregRobin Smith, Sir Brand

Shared with permission of my dear friend, Greg Robin Smith, Sir Brand

"Holding Yet His Sword"

     In February 1994, my wife Cym and I had the honor and privilege

of meeting a young champion of knightly virtue at Seattle's Swedish

Hospital.  Joseph Boyle, only three years old, loved knights.  He would

happily and repeatedly sit through all of "Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves".

He had a castle play-area, tiny armed warriors, a plastic suit of armor

and a toy sword.

     His parents heard that we teach hands-on classes in Medieval history

and asked if we would visit Joseph for his birthday.  We try to re-create

the elements of the Middle Ages because we believe in the beauty of that

age; the chivalry, the honor, the quests of noble deeds.  Such a quest was

before us now:  "Of course we will come."  We were to meet at their home

but received a call stating Joseph had returned to the children's cancer

ward due to a relapse, and "would we mind visiting him there?"  We came in

full court costume with music, games, helms and chain mail and crowded

into his room.  It was stuffed with family, friends, hospital staff, his

castle, medical monitors, toy knights and party paraphernalia.  We sang

them songs, played music and games, put the party guests in armor and

observed a truly loving family, standing together against great odds.

After we left, I wrote a simple sonnet in tribute to the love I saw, a

love that bound them all.  I called the poem "The Squire at War".  When

next I visited, I gave them a copy.  They posted it near Joseph's bed so

they could see and read it whenever they wished.

     In later weeks, we continued to visit and brought them video tapes of

our Medieval re-enactments.  When he was able to leave the hospital,

Joseph and his family would come by our tournament practice site to meet

"the knights doing battle."  Our attempts to bring back the glory of the

past, to learn from it and renew its gifts for today's world meant a great

deal to Joseph.  His obvious interest meant a great deal to us.  We were

able to show him that his dream of knighthood was not just imaginary, but

real.  It did exist, and he was part of it.

     On Thursday, September 15, 1994, his mother called to tell me that

Joseph had died the day before.  She told me, in a very calm voice, that

he was no longer in pain, but was with God.  She thanked me for the poem,

our visits and for the fact that, through those visits, Joseph had seen

his dreams come to life.

     Joseph was at home when he died.  They had brought him there when

they knew his time with them was short, and there was nothing more the

medical world could do for him.  As it was, Joseph lived five days beyond

all expectations.  His mother said it was because he believed in the

strength of his warrior's heart.  Near the end, Joseph did not want to

wear his plastic armor anymore because young 'Sir' Joseph felt "only a

healthy knight should be in armor."  He would, however, lie upon the

floor, weakened and in pain, holding yet his sword.  His Mother told me

that they would bury their son with that sword by his side.  Without

knowing it, they had re-created one of the most ancient parting rituals

known:  the burying of a personal weapon with a warrior gone on to the

next world.

     At the funeral, the church was filled with more than a thousand

people, each touched in some way by Joseph's short life.  At his parents

request, we came wearing our Medieval clothes.  They said that was the

only way Joseph would know us.  We were honored, and surprised, to find

that the memorial pamphlet contained a picture of Joseph with his sword

and the poem.

  At the graveside, I gave Joseph's Mother my right spur so she would

always have remembrance of us.  I also carved into my Knights belt and

dropped the pieces into the freshly dug grave in tribute to Joseph's

courage. I vowed never to wear another right spur and to never repair the

belt so I would always be reminded of him.  That is why I only wear one

spur to this day and why my belt is scarred, so others may ask about them

and be told the tale of the best Knight I have ever known.

     I never again will lack faith in what we can stand for, no matter how

many mistakes are made nor how great the travails of modern life.  We,

each of us, live a beautiful possibility, a vulnerable reality, a delicate

truth.  But as certain as we live, that truth can bring beauty into being,

and that beauty can give strength!

     Joseph Boyle's battle with the dragon of Leukemia ended on September14, 1994.  He was three and a half years old.

     His family remains supportive and loving of life and Joseph's memory

and we have remained friends.  They recently attended our wedding -- all

four of them:  his mother, father, younger sister and the spirit of

Joseph, as inspiring an example of knightly ideals as I have ever known.

     The following is in tribute to Joseph's -- and his family's -- fight.

In service, humility, sadness and hope, I remain GregRobin Smith (or as

Joseph knew me, "Sir Brand").

The Squire at War

by Sir Brand McLiam

"Not yet had summer's suns seen play enough.

No rivers had yet given up their catch.

Too little had the snowy drifts of fluff

Seen sleds of singing youth go hap'ply past.

Too soon the battle came to those at hand

And young, and younger still, were called to fight.

With weapons barely tempered, this brave band

Of Families refused both fear and flight.

Yet on, and on, and on the foemen rode.

No toll could seem to make them slow nor yield.

Again, again, again the fortress told

Of Bravery and Love borne as a Shield.

Come night and sun and witness how they stand

And grant some gladness for this time at hand."

----------------------------------------------------

Came knight and son, and witnessed where they stood

And grieved in sadness for the loss of "should." --

--Yet smile with joy, and tell of heroes bold

For bravery's not just borne by those of Olde."

-----------------------------------------------------

 (insert here by Terry Fenwick - for anyone who has ever lost a child, this poem

 above will be one to cherish.) 

In thanks and in joyful service, I remain

GregRobin Smith, Sir Brand

 --

3/97

We have recently heard the Jolene and Rick have just had their third

child, a 10 pound baby boy they have named Patrick Joseph.  Joy!