God's greatest gift to man in the natural order is his youth. Nothing else brings him so much persistent pleasure, nor makes life appear so full of incident, nor earth so full of gladness. There are other delights, such as friendship, and the fair face of nature, and the very joy of life that comes from work well done and from pleasureable exercise; but these even are themselves dependent upon youth or at least the memories and ideals of youth. It is youth, indeed, itself which is a necessary condition for appreciating things for the first time; for the delights that we only learn late in our time cannot make the same appeal to us as do the pleasures that come to us "trailing clouds of glory," bringing with them the scenes of our childhood and youth; for life always is as a man holds it to be. Clouds, for the youth, are seen only in their silver lining, and the very forces drawn up against him appear merely as the necessary matter out of which victory must be fashioned. The suppleness of limb, the swing and poise, are typical of a motion of soul that is swift, eager, adventurous, fresh. It is this, then, that makes the whole world appear so beautiful and so worthy of all human efforts. The "eyes of youth" give its proper setting to all life. After all, we find only what we are looking for, and only set out to search for what the heart has already had with itself. Hence it is that we realize the value of that great gift of youth, for it has a more wonderful power than that of which the ancient classics fabled, since it turns all things else into itself; so to the young all the world itself is young again.
As youth is God's greatest gift to man, so is it no less man's greatest gift to God. I can make Him no offering more acceptable or more worthy. The cloisters of a monastery may be tenanted by those who have come wearily out of a disillusioned world, who have seen their ambitions crushed and have lost all sympathy with the faded grandeurs of reality. Yet surely God loves best to find there innocent hearts and loving souls that have come to Him first, not waited till all else had palled; and what makes a good religious in the sight of God must apply also to all those whose distinct and divine vocation it is to serve Him in the family and at work among the professions of the world. Some of these, too, turn to Him only when they have tasted the bitterness of all things else, and come, already wearied and worn out, to offer Him what is left of their lives; but those surely are the dearer to Him who have clung to Him always by their strength, whose freshness is reserved for Him and none other, and who can make consecrate to Him the very fulness of their powers. Youth, then, as His best gift to us, must be also our best gift to Him. He asks from us our best, and our best alone is worthy of Him.
"Not when the sense is dim:The sweetness of childhood must charm God even more than it fascinates man, for He must see in its depths generosity, modesty, trustful purity, that we cannot fathom but only dimly perceive.
Now in the time of joy
I would remember Him -
Take the thanks of a boy."
I have, then, not to wait till I have wearied of other things before I turn to Him, but I must give Him of my best. He is so very patient, so eager, so foolish even for my love, that He is willing to take whatever I am willing to give. The New Testament rings with the story of His love for man, and the memory of it made Saint Paul, an Athenian in feeling though not in birth, cry out about the foolishness of the Cross. The wisdom of God might, indeed, be wiser than the wisdom of man, but it was certainly a stumbling-block to Jew and Gentile. So low did He stoop, so exaggerated was He and so extravagant in His way of showing His affections, that in all reverence we feel tempted to tell Him that it is not so that man is to be won. But He is, indeed, so ready to take whatever affection I like to show, that He is apparently full of thanks when I toss to Him the fag-end of my life. Like a boy in the street, He seems content when I leave to Him merely the stump of my existence. Yet if He is content with a deathbed repentance, surely I cannot be. I am not so mean as to presume upon His goodness, to act according to His fondness for me. He has given me this flood of life, this gaiety and elasticity of soul. He has made my life beat high with hope, and scent the fresh perfume of the soul, and see the sun high in the heavens with its golden glory transmuting all things. Let me see how far I can return it to Him. He loves my youth as I love it; let me give it back again. Let me love and serve Him now, when my love and service are of some use to Him, not wait till I am old and useless before I make my offering. Now, while the heart is young and the senses are alive, while youth is generous and attractive, while my soul has the charm and freshness of early morning, let me draw nearer to God who giveth joy to my youth.
- text taken from Meditations for Layfolk by Father Bede Jarrett, O.P.