Giving
To give of oneself is a tremendous gift to all. The thought of giving came to mind while sitting, reading the Covenant of Bahá'u'lláh and drinking my tea. i could explain more about the story but would rather the reader derive their own conclusions from this story.
Giving
The man waited to board the plane. He was on his way to the land of silk and jade. He was going with a purpose, to make a difference in the World and to address a long time need born in him so many years ago, to serve his fellow man. As he waited to board the plane that would take him to his new home, he reflected on those early memories.
The race started. The current race was a foot race between the two oldest men in the group of over a hundred. The two looked to be ancient to the six year old boy watching, however, the combination of a hard life and young eyes made them appear ancient beyond years. Surrounding the boy were dozens of people enjoying a special new year’s celebration and smiles and laughter were found everywhere. Crate upon crate of soft drinks were stacked high above the head of the young boy as he observed the celebrations of the day. The once exotic smell of Bengali food was now a comfort to the boy as he watched the cooks with their open air pots in the drive preparing a huge feast. This was a special day, a day of rejoicing and a day for sharing.
The family compound was large, though not large by ex-patriot standards. The usual compliment of cook, house boy, gardener and night guard were housed by the garage or lived elsewhere. A cement wall, not too high, surrounded the property. The next house by the river housed a family from the West German Consulate. It was here that two days before a cobra was found and brought to show to the boy and his family. Across the street a new house was being built with cement mixers and countless people carrying baskets of cement on their up ramps to what was becoming a second floor of the large house in waiting. Large trees grew in the compound and reached for the sky. A large Pomelo tree grew between the house and the garage. It was by the garage that the occasional chicken would be slaughtered for dinner or the papaya would be plucked from the tree for refreshment. On the other side of the house and the site of much of the celebrations was a swing set that the boy and his brothers would use when the heat was not too oppressive.
This normally spacious yard was filled that day to capacity. It started as a special day as this was the largest group of people he had ever remembered at his house in the very few years of memory that he had. Slowly he spied something that came to his attention. He started to detach himself from the sound of laughter, the smell of food, the taste of drink and the heat of the day. The multi colored flowers blended into the background and his attention became more focused. He walked to the edge of a group of people to see a sight he was not used to. As far as he could see the house was surrounded by what appeared to be countless faces. Looking in from all available angles were people from end to end. They were looking at the group enjoying their holiday. They had neither looks of sadness or happiness, nor were they looking in any way threatening to the boy. It was clear that the represented the multitude of the poor and starving of one of the poorest countries of the World. They were watching the event much as the boy would watch a movie of an African safari, wanting so bad to be the hunter with the pith helmet and white safari cloths, yet knowing that this was a dream that would not happen. He knew that they were starving; he knew that his family was already feeding as many as they could. He had watched his parents help a leper with money to send his daughter to school. But the enormity of the suffering and inequality in life did not hit home to that boy until that new years day as he watched those many faces watching in deep resignation at what they would never have.
Not long after that party an opportunity came to the boy, the kitchen pantry was unlocked. The various servants were occupied and the parents were off elsewhere. While playing in the driveway a beggar came to the gate and in the universal language of need and suffering, indicated to the boy that he was hungry and wanted some food. The boy ran into the house and, finding the pantry unlocked, entered, grabbed the one thing he coveted, a package of cookies and ran back out giving it to the man through the spaces in the gate. He was overjoyed and walked away. One of the staff had just come and rescued the boy from the dangers of being too near the gate and later reported to the parents what he happened to see.
That night his mother, the angel on Earth, came to him and spoke to him about what he had done. She was not sore for his stealing a box of cookies; she was not even upset that he had approached the beggar. The desire to feed the hungry man was noble and she applauded it.
“However”, she said, “What you did was not the best way to help him.” She waited to see if she had the boy’s attention before continuing. “While a package of cookies is a treasure to a six year old, it is not a helpful thing to give a hungry person. The man will most likely eat the whole package at once. He will then be used to more food in his stomach than normal, also resulting in his being more hungry than before he ate the cookies. He may have a stomach ache from the amount of cookies he has eaten. And most of all, the nutritional value of the box of cookies is insignificant and won’t be enough to help the man with his suffering. “
The boy dug himself into his mother’s loving arms, crying and knowing that his mother was right but that she still did not regret the gesture he made in trying to feed the starving.
The moment to embark has arrived; he takes his place in line, and arrives at the plane. His foot raises and crosses the space between the jet way and the plane. He crosses the gap in time and place and his foot strikes down propelling him to his new home and life.
Shiidon December 2007
Giving
The man waited to board the plane. He was on his way to the land of silk and jade. He was going with a purpose, to make a difference in the World and to address a long time need born in him so many years ago, to serve his fellow man. As he waited to board the plane that would take him to his new home, he reflected on those early memories.
The race started. The current race was a foot race between the two oldest men in the group of over a hundred. The two looked to be ancient to the six year old boy watching, however, the combination of a hard life and young eyes made them appear ancient beyond years. Surrounding the boy were dozens of people enjoying a special new year’s celebration and smiles and laughter were found everywhere. Crate upon crate of soft drinks were stacked high above the head of the young boy as he observed the celebrations of the day. The once exotic smell of Bengali food was now a comfort to the boy as he watched the cooks with their open air pots in the drive preparing a huge feast. This was a special day, a day of rejoicing and a day for sharing.
The family compound was large, though not large by ex-patriot standards. The usual compliment of cook, house boy, gardener and night guard were housed by the garage or lived elsewhere. A cement wall, not too high, surrounded the property. The next house by the river housed a family from the West German Consulate. It was here that two days before a cobra was found and brought to show to the boy and his family. Across the street a new house was being built with cement mixers and countless people carrying baskets of cement on their up ramps to what was becoming a second floor of the large house in waiting. Large trees grew in the compound and reached for the sky. A large Pomelo tree grew between the house and the garage. It was by the garage that the occasional chicken would be slaughtered for dinner or the papaya would be plucked from the tree for refreshment. On the other side of the house and the site of much of the celebrations was a swing set that the boy and his brothers would use when the heat was not too oppressive.
This normally spacious yard was filled that day to capacity. It started as a special day as this was the largest group of people he had ever remembered at his house in the very few years of memory that he had. Slowly he spied something that came to his attention. He started to detach himself from the sound of laughter, the smell of food, the taste of drink and the heat of the day. The multi colored flowers blended into the background and his attention became more focused. He walked to the edge of a group of people to see a sight he was not used to. As far as he could see the house was surrounded by what appeared to be countless faces. Looking in from all available angles were people from end to end. They were looking at the group enjoying their holiday. They had neither looks of sadness or happiness, nor were they looking in any way threatening to the boy. It was clear that the represented the multitude of the poor and starving of one of the poorest countries of the World. They were watching the event much as the boy would watch a movie of an African safari, wanting so bad to be the hunter with the pith helmet and white safari cloths, yet knowing that this was a dream that would not happen. He knew that they were starving; he knew that his family was already feeding as many as they could. He had watched his parents help a leper with money to send his daughter to school. But the enormity of the suffering and inequality in life did not hit home to that boy until that new years day as he watched those many faces watching in deep resignation at what they would never have.
Not long after that party an opportunity came to the boy, the kitchen pantry was unlocked. The various servants were occupied and the parents were off elsewhere. While playing in the driveway a beggar came to the gate and in the universal language of need and suffering, indicated to the boy that he was hungry and wanted some food. The boy ran into the house and, finding the pantry unlocked, entered, grabbed the one thing he coveted, a package of cookies and ran back out giving it to the man through the spaces in the gate. He was overjoyed and walked away. One of the staff had just come and rescued the boy from the dangers of being too near the gate and later reported to the parents what he happened to see.
That night his mother, the angel on Earth, came to him and spoke to him about what he had done. She was not sore for his stealing a box of cookies; she was not even upset that he had approached the beggar. The desire to feed the hungry man was noble and she applauded it.
“However”, she said, “What you did was not the best way to help him.” She waited to see if she had the boy’s attention before continuing. “While a package of cookies is a treasure to a six year old, it is not a helpful thing to give a hungry person. The man will most likely eat the whole package at once. He will then be used to more food in his stomach than normal, also resulting in his being more hungry than before he ate the cookies. He may have a stomach ache from the amount of cookies he has eaten. And most of all, the nutritional value of the box of cookies is insignificant and won’t be enough to help the man with his suffering. “
The boy dug himself into his mother’s loving arms, crying and knowing that his mother was right but that she still did not regret the gesture he made in trying to feed the starving.
The moment to embark has arrived; he takes his place in line, and arrives at the plane. His foot raises and crosses the space between the jet way and the plane. He crosses the gap in time and place and his foot strikes down propelling him to his new home and life.
Shiidon December 2007
posted by Shiidon at 6:14 PM
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