I held a newborn chick yesterday. As is always the case, it filled me with wonder.
The next day, a newborn goat.
A friend (more an acquaintance than friend) commented on a post about chicks how precious they are, how much he (a heavy equipment operator) loves being “on the scene” when any new animals are born on his small farm.
The same friend (acquaintance) recently posted on Facebook, responding to the deportation of immigrants who face certain poor medical treatment, possibly death, that those immigrants weren’t our problem, that we have enough people in our country who need help, and basically screw those immigrants, send them back where they belong.
And, again, the same acquaintance commented on a news story about the uprisings in the Congo and the slaughter of innocents, how it simply wasn’t his problem, let them work it out.
I was reminded of a Bible verse (yes, I’ve read it many times) I learned long ago, repeated to me by my parents many times:
1 John 3:17 “If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother and sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person?”
So, you will excuse me if I’m a bit confused.
My eyes became misty when I held that newborn chick. They always do during the birth of any animal, any creature, any child. To me it is a miraculous event, the end of one journey, the beginning of another, a life just begun, a life filled with thousands upon thousands of sensations, sights, sounds, feelings, as important an event, to my way of thinking, as any bill signed into law or any contractual agreement between corporations . . . nay, more important, infinitely more important, than any of those man-made constructs.
My life is slowly coming to a conclusion. Not imminent, mind you, although I do not know that with any certainty, but I am on the downslope of an amazing adventure. I look back over the landscape of seventy-six years and I am in awe, I am amazed to have lasted this long, and above all else I am grateful for the gift I was given. You see, my life could have been much different. Were it not for a moment of clarity in the mind of an alcoholic mother who gave me up for adoption, chances are excellent I would have died young in a violent household. Were it not for friends who loved me enough to reach out a helping hand when I needed it most, I would have died eighteen years ago from my addiction.
So, to hear people casually disregard immigrants in need, or to have no empathy for people suffering in foreign lands, I simply cannot understand it. To me, they are exhibiting the worst of human nature, and I will never comprehend that kind of coldness. And to those who say we can’t afford to be the savior of foreign nations or immigrants in need, I say we can’t afford not to be.
Anyway, I held a newborn chick yesterday, the next day a newborn goat, and they were gifts for which I am very grateful. Life, any life in this grand circle of life, should be held in awe and never marginalized, never politicized, and certainly never ignored because of economics or apathy.
But, I’m just a bear of little brain; what do I really know?
Bill
#my books can be found in paperback and on Kindle. You will find them on Amazon under William Holland.
Thank you
Bill
