Winfred was a Relihím

from his earliest days, begotten,

raised among the robber band

though he was too young to understand.

He knew only that they went

from place to place

and never lacked for good food.

–

Where did all these things come from?

was not a question he thought to ask,

for his father and mother

provided for him; he didn’t bother

to inquire about the means

through which food came

and the good things of this world.

–

He assumed, as children do,

that Ta and Ma were just, good, and true

until he saw his first raid,

and did what children also do, said

to his mother,

“Did you see their tears, their fear?”

–

“My son, you must understand,”

said she, “the world is cruel for our band,

as for every person born.

We must survive. Who cares how? Stubborn,

do what we must,

there is no one left to trust.”

–

And thus trust died in his heart

for the first time, as gift was now part

of a taking from another,

and he knew that father and mother

were not the home

of love that he thought they were.

–

For love weak and frail he saw

and though he knew they tried, that was all,

for love is more than a wish:

it is true, and good, and glorious,

radíant with light,

for it receives first, then gives.

–

And the fruit of its labor

is borne by one for all, each neighbor.

Need the world be such a strife

in which some take livelihood and life

from those weaker

saying that things are just hard?

–

When he came of age, Winfred

departed from his band, for instead

he sought to do some small good,

to stop the robbers of way and wood.

Such was his life:

amends for his parents’ sin.

–

But then he saw on the lanes

his parents band, stopping laden wains,

and faced the test of mercy,

which alone justice can restore. See:

He called to them

and bid them lay down their arms.

–

“See, your son am I,” said he,

“and you raised me indeed tenderly.

But see what I am now, too,

and think, my parents, what I should do.

The weak you prey

and take their sole livelihood.

–

Shall I stand by and let you

when every man is my fam’ly too?

A child’s home is not his home

unless in it he find more than gloam,

but truth undimmed,

like the daylight full and glorious.

–

But perhaps I could give you

the home that I first looked for in you,

a place where life is shared, free,

because there is trust and unity.

Justice awaits:

yet what is it but restoration?”

–

Heart’s rehabilitation

a son offered to his wounded kin,

and the law was shown through him

as more than to punish and condemn.

But ev’ry gift

must meet with heart’s acceptance.

–

Did his mother and father

and the rest of his childhood order

accept the mercy offered

or continue in their prior way?

It is not known.

But ever since that first day:

–

Telmérion has ever striven

for a truly just dispensation,

not by putting its members

to the death that punishment renders,

but by off’ring

a chance to start a new life.