I’ve inadvertently entered into a social experiment – one of those where you pretend to be disabled, a single mother, schizophrenic, etc and see how people react. When I, who could pass as a high schooler, walk around with the African-American baby I nanny, there are quite the variety of reactions…
Spring has sprung – a new day has begun. We are enlightened, brightened. Blind to color we claim to be but a different kind of blindness is what I see. Blind to the colors of the Divine Artist – an artist of stained glass to be specific, windows being his specialty. He works only with the finest, priceless glass illuminated with brilliantly varied colors. His windows are world-renowned! Reflecting the same Light but looking oh – so different a veritable paradox. Meditating upon the work of this Artist – (perhaps you’ve seen some of it?) and in search of Truth, Beauty and Goodness, I walk on the edge. In the shadow of the woods I see the dark undergrowth of “equality.” I thought this was a “new” haven? Old problems dressed up in new rags – rags that threaten to hide the work of the Divine Artist. So on this walk (a treasure hunt really) I discover to my dismay – birds of a feather still flock together (especially those stubborn ducks!) at the edge of the woods. Who am I to disturb the status qu(ack)o? “Who is this that appears like the dawn?”* “Look at that! A white woman with a black baby!” I’ll spare you a lecture on genes, but while we’re on the subject, please pull up yours. Sir, I ask just a moment of your time I beg you, step inside. Let the dawn of a new day illuminate our souls. What color is your heart?*Song of Songs 6:10
writerwithacause.wordpress.com 