Good bye to a brave soul

One of the bravest men I've ever met died in an African village yesterday. He'll have no grave stone or obituary, just the memories of those who knew him. No one knows his exact age, he was born before it was considered important to keep track of those things. We guessed his age in his 70s when we knew him. At that time, he would think nothing of climbing 70 foot palm trees to collect coconuts or enter a cluttered, dark building to come out with his machete and a dead poisonous snake. I never saw fear on his face. We called him "Vieux Karr" Vieux means old in French and we might say Old Man Karr in English, but the term conveys more respect than that. It's more like "Papa Karr". He had no children who survived to care for him in his old age, so was cared for by the church he attended. He was well loved there as one of the few elderly people in what is a very young church. They are mourning him today and preparing his funeral. Good bye Vieux Karr. I look forward to meeting you again one day.