Eulogy by Reverend Sid Symington

“When Death comes, like the hungry bear in Autumn; when Death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the purse shut, I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?”

This is part of a poem by Mary Oliver, who died in January. The poem speaks to me of Harleigh, whose hunger for the beauty of life knew no bounds, and whose society saw no limits of inquiry into the wonder of connections among people and places and times.

Dearly Beloved, we are here to express our appreciation and respect for one of God’s truly good people, Harleigh Knott, who lived among us as person of principle, integrity and curiosity about the world. She loved the world, the people in it, the books and plays and films that make it speak, the art that makes it rich and the music that makes it sing.

She was truly compassionate, perceptive and wise, as those who were fortunate enough to receive her correspondence and famous newspaper clipping service can attest. And there were many of us, especially among her distant-in-miles, but close-in-spirit extended family. Thank you for sharing her with us.

Harleigh was always looking for connections and meaning, operative principles and telling examples to illustrate what took place in the world. The terrible crash that ended her motoring days did nothing to dampen her hunger for friends, for learning and conversing about things: for life.

She was essentially a private person, but this in no way diminished her interest in other people, nor her concern for  their welfare. She managed to get to the heart of any subject – whether policy, event or person -- while never saying an ungracious word. She maintained the highest standards in all her efforts, and her concern for genuineness left no room for doubt.

Harleigh can perhaps best be described by an accolade not much used these days: She was a lady and a scholar. What does a good, long life like hers have to say to us? When anyone dies, some part of us also faces the inevitability of our own death. But a life like hers helps us know that, in its spiritual dimension, life is indivisible and infinite. When a good person dies they continue to speak to us, as they have spoken to us in life. “What would Harleigh have to say about this?” is a question we will ask ourselves as long as we have the capacity.

Perhaps she would say to us that life must be lived in the search for truth but always in the context of love. We have heard the Gospel words of Jesus as reported by John: “I am the way, the truth and the life; no one comes to the Father except by me.” Knowing Harleigh helps us understand that these words have no meaning at all unless it is understood that the “Me” they refer to has little to do with one religion (much less one religion over another), and everything to do with love. She would point out that this same evangelist, John, was the one who made the truth most plain: “God is love.” Noone comes to God except by love.

“And therefore,” says the poet, “I look upon everything as a sisterhood and a brotherhood, and I look upon time as no more than an idea, and I consider eternity as another possibility. When it’s over, I want to say all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms… I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”

God knows Harleigh, beautifully tall and elegant, picturehatted and wise and graciously-spoken Harleigh was no mere visitor to this world; she was an eager sojourner. And we who knew her will always consider ourselves fortunate to have been along for the ride.