Global Warming

“you mean we aren’t responsible for global warming” asked daisy, who was seated at the rear of the class. it was a bunch of ten year olds, Solomon was filling in for the regular teacher, had no class prepared, the head teacher just asked him to supervise, kill the hour with them, surf the net, whatever, so long as they don’t make noise, okay!.

He sounds like my elderly aunt he thought as he walked the corridor, thinking, what would be a good subject to chat about, he was a good talker, and children love good stories. What’s in their own interests, make it personal for them, but not too personal. My Dad is an alcoholic and my mother is in rehab, how cool is that, no, not that reality, a little else, what is in the interests of children. They like animals, who doesn’t, they

like flowers, is this cheesy he thought as he entered the class. It was his first week as a newly trained teacher and he was getting used to it. Being a role model in the lives of the young was a big responsibility, they ought to pay us more he thought, his hand feeling the credit card bill he slipped into his pocket that morning, half his first weeks wages would go with it.

Mrs Murphy is sick and I’ll be taking over the hour he said.

He wrote on the board, in big letters. 70% of the worlds species are extinct or facing extinction.

Are we responsible for killing animals said daisy, whose father was a farmer, as well as thrashing the environment. My dad says you have to drill twice as deep these days to get clean water.

You are not responsible for global warning either, we are, my generation are!

so what are you going to do to fix it then asked Aaron. We can always hire a lawyer and force you by the way, that’s what they say, if they damage your prospects make them pay.  Can children take lawsuits to force the government to do the right thing regards the environment asked another ten year old.

Aaron turned around, if they can impeach Donald they can do anything. Trumpie!!

Hold It tight

She is afraid, she reaches out for his hand, he holds it tight but not too tight, she needs the feeling, security, it will relieve her fears, she’s young, has arrived in a new city, is unsure of her surrounds, we’ll have a coffee here. They stop at a cafe, they sit outside, she watches the traffic pass, the human traffic, new colors, faces with expressions she has never seen before, there’s the anxiety, being unsure in your surrounds, amen. She will be living in the city, there is a course she’s attending, her father accompanies her, is helping her to settle in. He see’s the look on her face, nods to himself, we’ll keep an eye on you.

Isn’t faith like that sighed Solomon, you reach new heights and places all the time, it’s a living thing and a destination at the same time, and there are demons who want to point you in other directions. you meet new ones all the time. Making friends is never easy, particularly when you have things others don’t have and want ,

peace of mind he’s thinking of. Solomon was reminding himself, don’t be afraid to venture, just take your faith with you. There were those of no faith at all who measured everything, how can you manage love he sighed, unless you intend to use it as an asset you can sell, and who wants that sort of society, only tyrants and bullies he surmised. Solomon wrote a prayer to spike the efforts of those who preyed on the vulnerable, the young woman in the story, reminded him of one of their many victims, amen.

The Chef

A walk to the market, sizing the veggies, she feels them, feel  ok, drops them in the bag, a short walk, health and well being on her mind, she feeds people, wants to make them feel well, it’s a struggle sometimes, but she perseveres. The half hour over the boiling pot, the regular twist of the spoon, doesn’t want it to get too lumpy, dips her finger in, tasty, she wants a little more spice, just enough never too much, you can add more yourselves later. She watches the door, they will be in soon, lunchtime, she knows who is well and who needs extra, she has a heart that tells her she is a mother, her food is prepared that way. amen.

 

Justice Monday

(great name for a detective)

Three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen whatever age whatever the reason, we plan for it but do very little about it, it’s being repeated and repeated year after year, it’s the ozone layer of our times, the most pressing issue in the world, the discomfort of young children and how it continues to soar, nothing original I’m afraid, just more calls for volunteers, a situation that is expected to worsen, any wisdom out there, it does not appear so. Children vulnerable to adult vices copying what they see, how fast they cotton on, that’s a smart child. There was a time when children were considered a Godsend, a blessing, more love to give, imagine having to put aside your personal needs for another one, that little bit weaker, that was long ago. Now we have a list of explanations for the child and the role of the adult and society, a lot of dumb people out there who need to have the basics explained to them it seems, all relating to the rearing and wellbeing of the little heart. And all a child wants is to be esteemed and loved, with a little encouragement they’ll work things out. Society has created a series of excuses and future excuses to justify all that is unwell with the rearing of children, more interested in what others are doing, always pointing the finger, it would be worse if they lived over there, that’s the same as telling the child in the bad neighbourhood he’d have more comfort living in Beverly Hills. The madness of it all will bring about the downfall of society, as God Most High has warned, and if you are a suffering child, an enslaved woman, a hungry mother with children to feed, a father without work, a truth chaser, it wont happen soon enough. Is it possible to shut off the flow of love, it seems it is for many, maybe we should try to turn it on again, live in our hearts for awhile before we forget it altogether.  A just idea for a Monday, being honest for awhile, seeing with the eyes of a child, not the type who says, they are not my problem, we are all aware of those types everywhere. God Most listens to the hearts of children, and his ears are buzzing, when will the love flow again, when will they realise they are all gifts, each and every living soul. We build care centres to help those with medical needs, how come we are silent when it’s the child next door, perhaps we have to see blood before we do anything, just as it was all those years ago when they nailed the only great man to a cross, and many great men and women that came after him, dumb is getting pure dumber as they say.

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