After watching the Presidential debate and reading the on-line comments on Facebook, it occurs to me we as a nation are missing something.
The amount of frustrated anger and disappointment in our political system which countless times has failed us brings me to the conclusion that we need to get a grip on reality. Who am I to think so, one with the rising sense of hatred and indifference I am seeing in this nation.
If there is one thing I would fear on my deathbed is to be abandoned, left all alone in this world, dying and no one holding my hand of helping me get through the process. I don’t know for sure if I fear death or not, but I do know that I feel like I don’t. I’m sure that will change to some degree once I have my exit interview.
On the other hand, I think about those of us who are alone, who do fear death and life as well. People who are shut off from socialization and the world at large in terms of human contact. I wish I could make an appointment with all of them and fulfill an obligation to visit and even comfort them, letting them know that they are not alone, that somehow God will provide for their fears and loneliness.
The world has become a loveless place. If you think that statement dramatic, just look at the state of affairs we have now. Obliterating whole states, killing off populations because of religious and political beliefs, discrimination due to color, gender, and even religious beliefs, and don’t forget our biggest crime: the abuse of children through starvation, abandonment, sexual abuse and wars that make them orphans, all children of God.
I remember once a few years ago, there was an old lady at a checkout counter of a local convenience store. She was old and frail, poorly dressed and all alone. On the counter was a lot of items that she was choosing to separate so that what little money she had she could pay for what was left. This was humiliating and distressful to her. The people directly behind her were impatient and cruel, expressing their disapproval as they held their coffee and rolls, cold cuts and snack foods. I thought to myself: this was someone’s child once, this was once a baby that parents loved and protected with hope for the future. What if they could look down now, what would they feel?
Love is a gift we give to each other, it is earned by our actions and it transcends all selfishness and enables our hearts and minds to comprehend a new day of life and joy. Why are we denying ourselves this wonderful gift? Why do we think that no one but us deserves happiness? I see many immigrants who are taking the place of what my grandparents did. They work as landscapers, street cleaners, and low-end jobs, their bodies weary and their minds clouded with fear of not being accepted. You meet one and they are polite, they are reasonable and smile. They do these things not because they feel inferior, they do it because it is in them to do it, it is natural. These immigrants just as they were a century ago, are proud to be Americans, yet their fellow Americans who feel entitled, work hard to keep them down. Someday their children will remember them not as immigrants but as Americans like those that came here a century ago, and they will shed a tear for the sacrifice and love and carry them in their hearts.
The amount of frustrated anger and disappointment in our political system which countless times has failed us brings me to the conclusion that we need to get a grip on reality. Who am I to think so, one with the rising sense of hatred and indifference I am seeing in this nation.
If there is one thing I would fear on my deathbed is to be abandoned, left all alone in this world, dying and no one holding my hand of helping me get through the process. I don’t know for sure if I fear death or not, but I do know that I feel like I don’t. I’m sure that will change to some degree once I have my exit interview.
On the other hand, I think about those of us who are alone, who do fear death and life as well. People who are shut off from socialization and the world at large in terms of human contact. I wish I could make an appointment with all of them and fulfill an obligation to visit and even comfort them, letting them know that they are not alone, that somehow God will provide for their fears and loneliness.
The world has become a loveless place. If you think that statement dramatic, just look at the state of affairs we have now. Obliterating whole states, killing off populations because of religious and political beliefs, discrimination due to color, gender, and even religious beliefs, and don’t forget our biggest crime: the abuse of children through starvation, abandonment, sexual abuse and wars that make them orphans, all children of God.
I remember once a few years ago, there was an old lady at a checkout counter of a local convenience store. She was old and frail, poorly dressed and all alone. On the counter was a lot of items that she was choosing to separate so that what little money she had she could pay for what was left. This was humiliating and distressful to her. The people directly behind her were impatient and cruel, expressing their disapproval as they held their coffee and rolls, cold cuts and snack foods. I thought to myself: this was someone’s child once, this was once a baby that parents loved and protected with hope for the future. What if they could look down now, what would they feel?
Love is a gift we give to each other, it is earned by our actions and it transcends all selfishness and enables our hearts and minds to comprehend a new day of life and joy. Why are we denying ourselves this wonderful gift? Why do we think that no one but us deserves happiness? I see many immigrants who are taking the place of what my grandparents did. They work as landscapers, street cleaners, and low-end jobs, their bodies weary and their minds clouded with fear of not being accepted. You meet one and they are polite, they are reasonable and smile. They do these things not because they feel inferior, they do it because it is in them to do it, it is natural. These immigrants just as they were a century ago, are proud to be Americans, yet their fellow Americans who feel entitled, work hard to keep them down. Someday their children will remember them not as immigrants but as Americans like those that came here a century ago, and they will shed a tear for the sacrifice and love and carry them in their hearts.
No comments:
Post a Comment