Some of you may have read (and even recall) my blog of October 20, 2022: Depends On the Day. The following took place a few days ago while camping at a lake in Colorado (could be any lake anywhere). So, back to the October observation, here’s the lead-in, and in the conclusion, the connection to that observation.
I just finished re-reading the 1961 Robert Heinlein novel Stranger in a Strange Land. Without retelling the whole 438 pages of the ACE paperback version, the main character is Valentine Michael Smith, an Earth human born on Mars who develops and grows through Martian ways and teachings. When he is brought to Earth, he eventually becomes a Messiah-like persona who teaches his followers how to heal themselves, to LOVE one another in ALL ways, and to stop war and killing. He brings in absolute punishments for evil doers and rewards for those doing good, and so on. Spoiler alert: In the end, Mike is killed by an angry mob who doesn’t want the status quo of their own political, religious, and economic foundations upended. Not much has changed in over 60 years.
The night I drafted this observation, Brenda and I, with a fair amount of alcohol, good food, a campfire, and each other’s company, took on another chapter of our rolling conversation about holding out hope for our own future and those generations who will support it. Our discussions revealed she and I may be somewhat cynical and internally conflicted about our own beliefs regarding humanity. For instance, regardless of why, I still tend to see terrorists or bad guys behind every tree (another story), but at my age I really don’t care much about working that problem anymore. In context, I may run into a burning building today to save someone’s life, but placed into catastrophic circumstances, I would not save that someone else’s family over my own.
Without divulging Brenda’s full views on her specifics of life, let’s just say she is a bit distrustful of organized religions, politics in general, WASPs, male-dominated or controlled anything, and salespeople who knock on the door or send emails. But the point is simply this, there are times when we both pretty much have little faith in humanity AS A WHOLE.
Then we met Henry, a small boy, maybe five or six, with blue-framed glasses, who had a tent near the beach and next to a large boulder beside the walking path. The tent material was covered in basic tribal prints - Z’s, stripes, swirls - but nothing really representing any significant motif.
Henry was perched on top of his rock when Brenda and I came by. “Hi,” we said. “Hi back,” Henry replied. He slid down from his rock, and we complimented him on his tent. Henry said: “I have some sticks here, want to see them?”
In a nook in the boulder, Henry had arranged random sticks and small limbs into some pattern that only made sense to him. Then the hook: “Do you want one?” he asked Brenda. Talk about heart melt. “Yes, of course,” Brenda replied, and almost as if he was choosing the best rose for her from a bouquet, Henry picked one stick and handed it to her.
Well, at that moment, Brenda and I both came face-to-face with our earlier conversations. Our HOPE, we agreed, was tied to individual human beings, and mostly to children, the whole of society be damned. (Cynical sidebar: Henry’s dad was watching from about 30 feet away the whole time, so Henry was NOT left unguarded, and if you have ever seen the 2017 movie or read the 2007 book, The Shack, you’d understand why, religious theme aside.)
Tom T. Hall, says it best in his song: “Old Dogs, Children, and Watermelon Wine,” when in one line he sings, “God bless the little children while they’re still too young to hate.” Look up the song on YouTube for a complete version (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WV8YJ7OfOWU).
The wrap up: HOPE is not being a man from Mars trying to change humanity, it’s running into a burning building to save the children. So regarding my earlier observation about saving the world, if early July was the time I had to make that call, thanks to Henry and his heartfelt gift, I would have saved the Earth.
Best regards to all, and let’s be safe out there.
