Everybody enjoyed the friendly banter between these two. They could both go on like this for hours. The warmth of their affection ran deep. They suffered at the same colliery, working side by side at the same heading;  their eyelids ringed bright red after rubbing away the ingrained coal grit which told of their unnatural daily labour. Then came the call they had all been waiting for, interrupting the lively chatter.  It was Idris, the leader:

"Leaving in a couple o' minutes!"

Conversations became brief and serious, with last minute look-overs. Suddenly they mounted, quiet like. On starting off, their movements were slow and smooth, gliding as one, as if they were all tied together. They had great pride in their departure, not even responding to the family waves of goodbye. In the distance they raised an arm, and then went out of sight.

At nightfall, their return would go unnoticed, in twos and threes. Later, they would meet up at their local for a chinwag, skins tanned, feeling tired and well ventilated from good clean air, their memories of sand and sea still lingering. It was a break from their labours in the bowels of the earth in the dark. Happy now, but only for a little while, for an arrow in the darkness was about to strike at the heart of their love for their friend. It was their last lovely day together by the sea     as Idris was about to bring sadness to their lives.

Only a few weeks had passed, when his lifeless body was brought home from the pit. Although Idris barely knew me, I secretly had affection for him. He always steered a tranquil course among his fellows.

It was more than a year before our memory of that fateful day passed. We all had affection for Idris. Time helped us to heal, but his spirit among us could never be replaced. His family and friends had delighted in his company for so long. His elderly parents and young sisters, who had always been poor, would live in grinding hardship from now on     which they did for many years after the untimely death of this young man who toiled for them in the dark.

But while writing this, a most startling thought occurs:  Not one among them talked about God, or His Son, or the Bible     even though coming to a knowledge of God, and being known by  Him, is the very purpose of our lives, the very thing that distinguishes us from the animals. What good is human reasoning if it isn't subject to the One who gave it?  Those who have spiritual perception know that although a fleshly body has been created for each of us, the spirit of each one of us is yet to be created.

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