A glorious man has died, a very close friend of mine. His name is Beowulf, our King and mighty protector of men. He was a brave man, the bravest I knew, his steel skull never gave up on him and until the very last moment he wore that ancient battle gear through his final war for life. Our great Beowulf once said, “Grendel is no braver, no stronger than I am,” (677-678). He defeated Abel’s descendent with nothing more than his very own skeleton suit. No man ever had the courage to battle with the evil Grendel who tortured the Danes. Ha! Our beloved warrior isn’t just a man; he must have been a descendent from some God! Only Beowulf had the strength and will to force Grendel to his death. He ended the suffering, the grief and the sorrow of the Danes great protector and his people. Not only did he end the Danes misery but he graciously accepted Hrothgars friendship, mead and rings of gold. Generously shared his fortunes with his fellow Geats and privileged them all with his presence. However that was not the end for Beowulf, for the vicious Grendel must have descended from something if not only evil. Beowulf took on the mother of Grendel, even more fearsome than her offspring, alone. Him and his men could have easily denied the battle and let the mother of evil lash out on the people who feared her, but of course not. The almighty warrior knew he had the power to stop her; he would never leave innocent people to suffer her treachery. Defeating her was just a mere wrestling match for the marble Beowulf. Telling his story reminds me of a young Beowulf I once knew. We would follow his father around and be guided by the best of warriors. His father had carved special wooden swords for both of us to defend our families with. One day Beowulf and I lost ourselves in a tree-maze, we could not find our way home for days, and in those three moons we came across a slithering foe with nothing more to his name than a few twigs and a dead mouse. Seeing this Beowulf had stripped down, crouched to his level and as vulnerable as he was he managed to capture the serpent for us both to enjoy. When we arrived home carrying the beasts’ mask we were praised for our bravery and skills. From then on Beowulf was known for his courage and bravery, and most importantly his loyalty to comrades. Not once did he even think about leaving my beaten young self behind, Beowulf, the magnificent friend that he was, stayed by my side and helped me survive those long nights as children. Be it luck, skill, or the guiding hand of God. Beowulf so strongly believed in the will of God, and after his battle with Grendels mother he proclaimed to Hrothgar, “I’d have been dead at once, and the fight finished, the she-devil victorious, if our Father in heaven had not helped me,” (1656-1558). His strong faith in our sun bearer made him seem like a super human , as if knowing what God had wished to happen, helping him win his battles. If Beowulf were here in the flesh he would not want us all to mourn, but to rejoice and celebrate his return to our Father. For he died to protect his nation and his name, he passed surrounded by precious jewels and silvers. His going was easy, knowing his fate was written and going according to plan. After his final words were said Wiglaf goes to the other Geats and tells them, “with Gods good grace he,(Beowulf), helped himself, swung his sword alone and won his own revenge. I went to him knowing that nothing but Beowulfs’ strength could save us,” (2874-287). Even after his last sip of life Beowulfs’ strength and fame live on. His fortune will be buried and go with him into eternal rest. His name will live on forever, and while he sits up there with our Lord, I know he is watching over his kingdom. As well as all of us who love and worship him as our eternal protector. May us all carry on and forever remember Beowulf.