” With our love, we could save the world.”
happy birthday Mr Gandhi, the guest is after arriving, and he has a present for the great man, a bowl of peace, just what i was seeking said the octogenarian, well, he is a little older but his spirit is still young, and he has been restless in the pursuit of a peaceful world, his guest, smiles. What do you want to ask me says the old man, who suddenly stops and apologizes for not offering his guest some tea on the veranda. He has traveled a long distance, to seek the wisdom of the peace activist. There is great concern in the world, so many areas of conflict, and the leaders in situ seem out of touch, the wise oracle is badly needed.
No sugar, i’m sweet enough says his guest. There is a tray of biscuits on the table, Mr Gandhi reaches for one and dips one into his tea, a habit i picked up from the english, he smiles, as he dips it a second time, oops, he lets the biscuit linger and it all falls in. Going to the same place anyway he smiles patting his tummy.
Peace Mr Gandhi, how did you manage it. Mr Gandhi has a childlike smile, his face is radiant, how i got into this place you mean, waving his hands at the surrounds, a paradise of calm and beauty, bliss. His guest nods, no, it wasn’t that peace he was interested in, but how the world was going to mend itself, the threat of wars a daily event, tragedies a regular news item. How do we mend the situation Mr Gandhi, his guest repeats. Mr Gandhi is on his fourth biscuit, and successfully dunks it. Patience he sighs, patience he sighs, not meaning to be overheard. His guest writes in a notebook, patience first. And don’t over react, it achieves nothing adds Mr Gandhi, usually makes things worse, his guest writes more. Patience, don’t over react, his guest is trying to be patient, but Mr Gandhi has his eyes on the biscuits, there is only one left. Should he share it or eat it, and sharing Mr Gandhi says, it makes people thankful, his guest writes sharing into his notebook. The biscuits are gone, Mr Gandhi finally looks up, he smiles at his guest and says,
“so why did you come to visit me then, did you bring any cookies with you then?”
I was seeking wisdom says the guest, oh wisdom, why didn’t you ask me that at the beginning, answers Mr Gandhi, it’s very simple. Once you use the wisdom you have, you get second then third helpings of it, provided you make use of it, it’s the law of the talents. Mr Gandhi sighs, his face droops.
Anything wrong Sir asks the guest?. No biscuits left.
She nods, it’s her first day, she made an effort to look smart, neat but not too much, first day, she has to learn the rules. The long sweep of her head, she eyes her as if she’s a mannequin, well, all you will be doing is standing there dear, give them something to look at, distract them, she meant to say him, once he, she corrects, once they get a focus on you it’s easy to control the communication, she is going to be front desk material, it’s the public services desk of an airline, they mostly handle complaints, and women do it better, well, in law, you can’t argue or use language that might be considered biased, women have more thorns, more armor, put them in the front line, those who are protected, they are the rules.
Solomon recalled his father, on his knees, unpacking his luggage, as he had gone over the weight measure limit
and had to exchange stuff for the overhead. A tax on presents, the extra luggage you carry coming back. It was created by an accountant no doubt, a team of them, find areas where we can legitimately charge for, what about the others in the industry, the boss smiles, they are greedy too, they are the rules. Imagine the rules, you get to the heavenly gates, you pass your cards across the counter, and a bribe, a last minute promise, a donation to a popular charity, this will solve the problem. Peter sighs, know the rules, he points to a tablet of rock, points, the guest retches inside, the rules.
Houston we have a problem, the phone call is short, they are not referring to the storm, even if it’s a tropic on many minds. Houston we have a problem, when said twice, the words have a strong affect. They have been watching the skies for many months, the wave patterns are not what they have heard before, it’s the reality of Heaven, the signals cannot be deciphered, it’s not something they can keep quite. The agent of the old system, is reporting back, the findings are certainly divine, it wasn’t the news they wanted to hear, it meant the end of the old system and the start of something new, at least they had a contingency plan, let’s be nice to everyone for a while. families refused credit get letters of approval and interest free loans to get them out of the tight corner, there is relief for awhile, the storms abate, what next Houston, they didn’t want to answer that.
Solomon sighed, they should have seen the cloud, amen.
DETROIT (WWJ) – They’re trying to make a point about poverty. The Detroit Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) Poor People’s Campaign has set up 25 tents now occupied by homeless people, northeast of downtown Detroit. Some suburbanites headed to grand opening concerts at Detroit’s Little Caesar’s Arena this week noticed the encampment, on Mt. Elliott…
she doesn’t grip the way she did before, it’s a struggle to open the blister pack but she manages. I need a cure, she sighs, she has a picture of him on her side board, what will i do, her hands. A radio blares to life, the neighbor next door is hard of hearing, so the music is up loud, not that again, then the tune begins, one they used to listen to, he passed away a year before and she misses him, your hands he used to say, they are so fine. They played piano so well, now they hardly worked, amen.
In the world of the old, it was lonely and hard to get on, lonely and afraid of the night, when she was with him, well she never had to worry. The tune plays on, the memory comes back, she hears a noise at the door, gets up slowly and pats over to the door, it’s James he says, he is her nephew, he has come to lend her his hands.
Many hands ease the load, many hearts working and the love flows.
The water ladies, he reaches for the tumbler and pours some, it melts into the whiskey, cheers, he smiles, it is a long way from the well, but the water just gets there, in reach of his hand. Solomon was reading a story, the toil on lives, and the need for clean water, in half the world, so many women walked for hours just to collect a few gallons, which they had to haul back to their families, something whiskey jack never gave a thought to. In a world that was running empty when it came to clean sources of clean water, Solomon thought of all those decision makers, and their callous ways when it came to the most vital of needs, simple clean water. Well, if you fill it with chemicals, add a little of this, well it’s water isn’t it. The well of life was the wisdom of the world, and that well was getting to the stage when it wasn’t going to produce anymore, a change was required. Mother nature howls loudly, her children, the plants, the struggling bees, it just wasn’t the same anymore, what were they putting in the water.
The heavy jugs are a burden in any weather, under a sweltering sky, the load is heavier, but they are used to, they toil without regret, they do it for others sake. Solomon was asking the great Spirit, wisdom please in order to deal with this. he encountered the Holy Spirit, and many blessings flowed from that well, it was not a delusion, many others had encountered it too, but the religious leaders needed to be made aware of this great providence. You don’t mess with such influences he sighed, you listen, amen. Fill them with wisdom he prayed. In a day of two the message would get through, it always did, you just had to believe, the same way Jesus does, amen.