Ahh how sweet it is!!

Ahh how sweet it is!! That is how I tend to sum up my life in a few words. Plain and simple, life is wonderful! This site will give you just a sneak peak at my thoughts throughout my life. Love, Mel

My Photo
Location: Bountiful, Utah, United States

Friday, January 27, 2006

Winter Day Walk - November 2004

Winter Day Walk
November 2004

On a winter day burdened with cold and nagging infection, I ventured forth to see if perhaps the biting cold could or would seize the germs infesting my body and restore me to peace and good health. So, layered up with abundant sweaters, wraps and shades to protect against the winter glare, I stumbled out from the warmth—a breeding place for germs, or so I thought —into the icy chill. An acquaintance, who happened along my trek, remarked that my features reminded her of the Uni-bomber, the man infamous for diabolical mischief and known for hood and dark glasses to secure his anonymity. I wore the same, not to conceal misdeeds, but to appear anonymous since I was three day bearded and unwashed.

Out I tread, warmed from the baggage I wore, only to find others dressed much more lightly as though the winter grip was being loosened by a more mellow southerly flow. Little did I care; my purposes were met and so concealed I drove on experiencing the ecstasy of muscle opposing gravity and loosening sinews too long dormant from lounging about in a sickly state. Hoping not to meet anyone who would recognize me, given my more than average height and customary exercise habits, I quickly passed a small, uncoated, group of children returning from grade school, and having passed and widened the gulf between us a few yards, was taken aback to hear a child cry, “Hi brother Bennett!” What’s this? I recognized no one nor had I attempted to connect to anyone eye to eye as I shuffled past. But recognized I was, and to this day I have no idea by whom in the small, youthful crowd. Meekly, I returned a “hi” and went upon my way.

Reflecting on the incident, I marveled that someone so young and not in the mainstream of my acquaintances would recognize me and be so confident and bold as to address someone such as I, a fellow sojourner on this planet to be sure, but one whose disparate age and circumstances would not likely bring us into fellowship. To be thusly recognized and hailed with the appellation “brother” could only mean one thing. The child knew me from our mutual attendance at church. If thus recognized, how then perceived? Was I admired, having acted admirably? Were there behaviors perceived that were not as noble as they could be? What, if any, deduction had the child made about humanity, character or godliness on viewing me? Did the view, bedecked as I was, build or limit faith and hope? Was I a source of inspiration or of doubt and confusion to this child? Did she, for the voice sounded feminine, speak to her parents of me, and what did the parents say of me? For surely, if recognized by her, then certainly her parents knew me or of me. What, if any, judgments of me were made as a result of the child’s recounting of her experience? Like one standing in front of the mighty Judge, my thoughts raced in quick reverse scanning my life for any incident, however small, that would cast a shadow of doubt, disappointment or uncertainty on any who had perceived me.

I was unmasked, revealed to this child. Should, would and could haves disappeared. All that remained was myself, labeled somehow “Brother Bennett.” It was an endearing, kind label: “brother.” If I a brother then she a “sister.” Connotations of goodness and accountability were implied. After all would a brother misuse, abuse or harm a sister. Would a brother speak unkindly of a sister to others who may seize upon perceptions and advance them for their own mischievous purposes? Would a brother fail, physically or psychologically, to extend a helping hand even though in doing so his own ambitions may be placed in jeopardy? Suddenly great feelings of obligation to this sister poured over me. I knew she had expectations of me. She hadn’t thoughts of running and hiding from me. I was her brother. She was secure. I was honor bound to preserve, protect and to cherish her all the while not knowing whom she was. It was sufficient that I was her brother. Happily, I continued on my way thankful that I had not violated a “sister’s” trust and knowing that a simple “hi” to my sister, though unspoken, communicated volumes.


Post a Comment

<< Home