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Blustery was the day; winter and spring having a tug of war over the land.
As I was leaving a shopping center I stopped at the apron to look for traffic. Directly in front of me was a cemetery; a blue funeral parlor canopy ruffled in the wind.
A lone elderly man stood underneath the tent. At his feet was a fallen floral grave decoration, blooms face down on the dirt. He stood there by himself. There were no others walking away as if the service had just ended, no cars but his silver Buick a few rows away.
Who was he? Was this his wife, his sister, a child, a brother or a cherished friend? Had one of his parents, who must’ve been very ancient, just passed to the other realm?
Intrigued, but at the same time I didn’t want to stare. I didn’t want him to see me looking; an intrusion it would have been upon his grief, so I looked away.
This day, so normal for all passing around him, would be remembered by him in sadness for the rest of his life.
This memory for me, too, is etched in my mind…. billowing blue canopy and the single man underneath, alone with death, yet surrounded by life.
There he was on the sidewalk,
Halloween pumpkin-toothed unshaven,
Swaddled in mismatched clothing,
But his shoes were new.
The language he uttered from a mouth missing teeth was foreign.
In my truck I tried to ignore him as he stood at the hood.
Demanding, repeating, over and over.
Maybe he will go away
He didn’t
Just short of pounding on the hood, he did not move.
“No” my voice echoed,
My head shook the word “no.”
I emerged from the womb of the car
The vagrant, the ghost of Mr. Booker from 10 years ago had come again only briefly.
Jesus said to give to one who asks you and from one who would borrow turn not away.
Lend, expecting nothing in return,
But I did not.
I turned away, again from God
In something that I read recently, a quote from Robert Blythe from the 60’s writing; Light Around the Body: “Time for the world to break up into small self-sufficient colonies of the new, the healthful and the hopeful.”
The world as we know it is changing. Our climate is in turmoil from global warming. Millions of people have been displaced by natural disasters, war, ethnic cleansing and the fear of genocide. Everywhere we turn the entire planet is being affected not only by high prices for every commodity, thus stretching the budgets of families worldwide but of the threat of shrinking resources. We have for too long, taken our Earth for granted.
We have also taken any ‘class status’, whatever it be in any culture, as a given. If we have been lucky, by an act of birth, to be in the world of the more fortunate, we can no more turn a blind eye to our poorest brother and sisters. If we have been blessed to live in a country without violence, there is no longer any excuse to pretend that social injustice and the horrors of war does not exist.
The time of ‘me…, me…, me’ must come to an end. It should become, “WE” and “US”, not ‘them‘.
We need to band together to heal not only planetary wounds, but cultural, physical, mental, spiritual and economic. The new world order needs to be not “Us versus them” but inclusive of all.
This is mandatory if we are all to survive.
To paraphrase Mr. Blythe’s quote, I’d like to add:
“Time for the world to break up into small self-sufficient colonies of the new, the healthful, the helpful and hopeful.”
I just picked up my current book, “Finding Your Way Home” by Melody Beattie. The more I read this; and so far I’ve only read the same two or three chapters – the more I believe that this is one of the MOST important healing and spiritual growth books that’s crossed my path. Believe me, I’ve read a lot!
Security. What do we think of when that word comes to mind? Right now for me that means having enough money to maintain my house and pay my bills.
Although at present I am not currently employed in a paying job, I am secure. I AM SAFE. I am not going to lose my house next week. I have enough to buy food and pay my bills. Even though I know the clock is winding down on the money I have, I KNOW that I AM provided for. God will never leave me stranded. Everything IS OK.
Security. I realize that this w-h-o-l-e Lowe’s issue, the relentless drive to get back there is a security issue. It is what I know, it is where there was some modicum of familiarity. Even in its unpredictability with scheduling, it was something I knew. I thought that if I got rehired, everything would be OK. I believed that I could do nothing else…, that I wasn’t worthy of anything else.
In truth I AM WORTHY of a lot more.
There is a line in the book: “When I become afraid and try frantically to know the future, it’s usually a cover-up to mask the fact that I’ve begun dreading life and I think there’s nowhere left to go. I try to change things in the exterior world so I won’t have to feel my own heart. I try to hold onto the past so that I won’t have to go into the void. Each time I allow myself to go into that void, the future holds something I couldn’t imagine. By the time I get there, I’m different. The world is different. It’s not the world I’m in today and I am not the person I am now when I get there. I’ve changed, and the changes in me change my perspective on the entire event.”
The cat is crying at the door to the living room. I don’t usually let him in but I go and crack open the door. He hesitates; inches forward, pulls back. Despite his insistence that this is where he wants to go – he’s afraid to cross the threshold.
Hmmmm…, this seems to be where I have been with the whole career situation. I knew that I wanted something different but afraid to go for it. I was trying to get back to where I was, to where I felt secure, but that’s not where I am supposed to be. I have been too stubborn to see that. Despite all the reminders from everyone, the constant admonishments, “Bev, you NEED to take a look at this.” I resisted. Nope, I was right, I was certain that I would get that job back but now I know differently.
Mentally I am imagining the door to Lowe’s CLOSED. Beside it is another door. (We know that when God closes one door, another one opens for there are no vacuums in nature.) This other door is cracked open. Even though I can’t see inside, I KNOW that it is a better path than the one I was on.
I am choosing to take the path behind the cracked-open door. It feels wonderful!
B
Children, in their wonderful innocence, are wonderful teachers for us all. This tale of compassion truly shows the tenderness of a child.
Working as a sales associate at a large home improvement store, I had to complete daily stocking reports. As I was walking toward the customer service desk to turn them in, I noticed a woman standing in line with a cart full of plants from the garden center. There was a small boy, about 3 or 4, with his hands cupped. The woman was motioning toward me, telling the boy, “Go give it to her.”
He came up slowly with one hand outstretched. There was something on his index finger. I squatted down to get to his level and noticed that it was a small snail. I could barely understand what he said but I knew that he wanted me to take it outside.
Now, I knew that it is considered a ‘pest’. Some people would have crushed the tiny creature immediately, telling the child it was bad and that it had to die. This mother, however, not only respected her son’s compassion, but she showed it to the little snail.
He tried to get it off his finger. It amazed me that he just didn’t try to pick it up. Did he somehow know that to try to do so probably would have smashed it? It fell off his hand and landed on the cement floor. I assured him that it would be OK, that we’d get it. I carefully scooped it up on the papers. It stayed inside its shell for a few seconds, and then stuck its head out. What a tiny thing!
I stood up a bit and told him that I was going to take it outside to be with its friends in the bushes. He smiled and shook his head, eyes gleaming with happiness.
I walked outside with the papers outstretched, across the traffic lane in front of the store to a small median where some low-growing junipers were planted. Carefully I parted their branches and lowered it into the undergrowth. “Be safe, little one.” I said as I turned and went back inside.
The little boy and his mom were still near the checkout. I walked up to him and said “Thank you for saving that snail’s life. That was a very nice thing to do. He is outside in a nice home. He is safe!”
His mom was nodding her head, silently mouthing “Thank you” to me. I winked back, knowing that we had just been taught a wonderful lesson by a child. This was a tenderhearted child, loving unconditionally and unafraid of even the smallest of creatures.
As I walked away I thanked Spirit for this wonderful experience and a beautiful start to my day.
B H May 2006
