This world
has many faces, some of which I have seen.
Some are beautiful; the monkey swinging from tree to tree, the elephant
in its silent swaying walk, and the sea’s deep rolling sound. Others are ugly; plastic littering the
undergrowth and choking the rivers; the violence and greed of humanity. You both have beautiful smiles, and as you
run towards us with your arms outstretched it is like being drowned in warming sunshine. You are happy being you; neither of you want
to be anything other than what you are.
Your parents care for you; delight in your company when you are awake
and relish the quiet when you are asleep.
You are both very young: one embarking on a new, larger world; the other
experimenting with sight, sound and movement.
Steadily, almost imperceptibly, you are moving towards independence,
standing alone, thinking for yourselves, being yourselves.
How will you
fare in this world of many faces? Will
you be devoured by the brutality of it all?
Or will you hold on to that sensitivity that you both so cheerfully
possess? Will the violence of
competition, ambition, aspiration engulf you so that you are left struggling in
the mire of life that has so carelessly been left by me and my generation? I have seen them on the streets of the towns
and cities and in the villages of India; children of your age struggling to
survive, their thin bodies clothed in rags.
I have seen their smiles, fleeting and questioning under the weight of
intense hardship. I have seen them in
the streets of Britain, cowering under the rage of desperate parents, already
consigned to the role of the under-class.
Will you
continue to learn about life, about who you are and feel free to explore? Today you play by the sea and walk in the
hills; you breathe the air that carries the promise of spring, the scent of a
summer to come and feel the bite of last chill winds of winter. Will you when, hard times come to you, as
they do to us all, walk quietly to the trees, the shore or the rivers to gather
yourselves, to reflect, to find strength?
You both delight in the flight of birds, the scurrying of animals and
the swift, darting movements of fish.
Will you care for them? Will you
share your world with them and not crush them under your feet?
When each
one of you sits on my knee and we read a book or look at the world outside,
your breathing and your bodies are so strong and yet so fragile. Sometimes you put your arms around my neck
and hold your face next to mine and we are together, all of humanity, timeless
in communication beyond words, beyond explanation: the old man and his grandson, for that moment
cease to exist. Then you laugh, slip off
my knee and go back to your playing, whilst I watch and learn about you and me.
Will you be
forced to fit in? Will fear come to
dominate your every move, as it did for me when I was young? Will you have to be the best, or will you
decide you are no good? Like us you are
the product of your parents, and yet you carry all of humanity within you. Will you find out what you really love doing
and do that? Will you care for others
without being asked?
Both of you
are so full of life; interested, thoughtful, over-flowing with questions. Your lives are just beginning, whilst mine is
approaching its final phases. Yet our
lives, yours and mine, are touched by the same fragility and we share the same
uncertainty of our continuity. So, though we are divided by time and separated by
distance may we learn together without judgement – you need neither my
condemnation nor my approval. It is the
joy of being related to all living things that nurtures our spirit, and it is
the delight of discovering this that unites humanity.
No comments:
Post a Comment