Make your own free website on Tripod.com



GREGORYABLER

THIS SITE IS DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY
OF GREGORY ABLER APRIL 12,1949-APRIL 16,1998






Greg has a message for you - Whether or not you are a believer, read the story of his life anyway, OK?

THE QUILT
As I faced my Maker at the last judgment, I knelt before the Lord along with all the other souls.  Before each of us laid our lives like the squares of a quilt in many piles.

An Angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that is our life.  But as my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares was.

They were filled with giant holes.  Each square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the challenges and temptations I was faced with in everyday life.  I saw hardships that I endured, which were the largest holes of all.   I glanced around me.  Nobody else had such squares.

Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and the bright hues of worldly fortune.

I gazed upon my own life and was disheartened.  My angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and empty, like binding air.  Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of truth.

The others rose, each in turn, holding up their tapestries.   So filled their lives had been.  My angel looked upon me, and nodded for me to rise.  My gaze dropped to the ground in shame.  I hadn't had all the earthly fortunes.   I had love in my life, and laughter.  But there had also been trials of illness, and death, and false accusations that took from me my world as I knew it.

I had to start over many times.  I often struggled with the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and begin again.  I spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and guidance in my life.  I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured painfully, each time offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would not melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly judged me.

And now, I had to face the truth.  My life was what it was, and I had to accept it for what it was.  I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light.  An awe-filled gasp filled the air.  I gazed around at the others who stared at me with wide eyes.  Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me.  Light flooded the many holes, creating an image, the face of Christ.

Then our Lord stood before me, with warmth and love in His eyes.  He said, "Every time you gave over your life to Me, it became My life, My hardships, and My struggles.  Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let Me shine through, until there was more of Me than there was of you.

May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine through.



*********************************

Greg got a 'Vette back in the early '70's and he
loved it ... this song tells that story as if it
were written about him.

Artist: Ball, David
Song title: Riding With Private Malone
Album: Amigo

I was just out of the service
Thumbin' through the classifieds
When an ad that said "Old Chevy"
Somehow caught my eye
The lady didn't know the year
Or even if it ran
But I had that thousand dollars in my hand
It was way back in the corner of this old ramshackle barn
With thirty years of dust and dirt on that green army tarp
And when I pulled the cover off
It took away my breath
For what she called a Chevy
Was a sixty-six Corvette
And I felt a little guilty as I counted out the bills
But what a thrill I got
When I sat behind the wheel
I opened up the glove box
And that's when I found a note
The date was 1966 and this is what he wrote

He said my name is Private Andrew Malone
And if youre readin' this, then I didn't make it home
But for every dream that's shattered
Another one comes true
This car was once a dream of mine
Now it belongs to you
Though you may take her and make her your own
You'll always be riding with Private Malone

Well it didn't take me long at all
I had her runnin' good
I loved to hear those horses thunder underneath her hood
I had her shinin' like a diamond and I put the red top down
All the pretty girls would stop and stare as I drove her through town
The buttons on the radio didn't seem to work quite right
But it picked up that Oldies Show
Especially late at night
I got the feelin' sometimes If Id turn real quick I'd see
A soldier ridin' shotgun
In the seat right next to me

It was a young man named Private Andrew Malone
Who fought for his country and never made it home
But for every dream that's shattered
Another one comes true
This car was once a dream of his back when it was new
He told me to take her and make her my own
And I was proud to be riding with Private Malone

Well one night it was rainin' hard
I took the curve too fast
I still don't remember much about that fiery crash
[drum march]
But someone said they thought they saw a soldier pull me out
They didn't get his name
But I know without a doubt

It was a young man named Private Andrew Malone
Who fought for his country and never made it home
But for every dream that's shattered
Another one comes true
This car was once a dream of his back when it was new
And I know I wouldn't be here if he hadn't tagged along
Yeah that night I was riding with Private Malone


Oh thank God I was riding with Private Malone

*********************************


TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,
HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF
PLASTER AND STONE.

I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY
WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE JUST WHO
IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.

I LOOKED ALL ABOUT,
A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,
NOT EVEN A TREE.

NO STOCKING BY MANTLE,
JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES
OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.

WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,
AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
A SOBER THOUGHT
CAME THROUGH MY MIND.

FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT,
IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,
I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER,
ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.

THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING,
SILENT, ALONE,
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR
IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.

THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE,
THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,
NOT HOW I PICTURED
A UNITED STATES SOLDIER

WAS THIS THE HERO
OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO,
THE FLOOR FOR A BED?

I REALIZED THE FAMILIES
THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS
WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.

SOON ROUND THE WORLD,
THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE
A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.

THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM
EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS,
LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.

I COULDN'T HELP WONDER
HOW MANY LAY ALONE,
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE
IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.

THE VERY THOUGHT
BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE,
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES
AND STARTED TO CRY.

THE SOLDIER AWAKENED
AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,
"SANTA DON'T CRY,
THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;

I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM,
I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,
MY LIFE IS MY GOD,
MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS."

THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER
AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,
I COULDN'T CONTROL IT,
I CONTINUED TO WEEP.

I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS,
SO SILENT AND STILL
AND WE BOTH SHIVERED
FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.

I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE
ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR
SO WILLING TO FIGHT.

THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER,
WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,
WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA,
IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE."

ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH,
AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND,
AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."

This poem was written by a Marine
stationed in Okinawa, Japan.


PLEASE CLOSE THIS WINDOW WHEN FINISHED VIEWING