Deeply Seen part 2

Let me give a little disclosure first...if you are reading this and have not read the first part you should probably start there and then read this. It is under the label A Little Story and called Deeply Seen.


Before we go any further regarding my response to the rather large black woman, lets go back some years and I will help you digest information about the first person I saw today. His name is Vishwas. Yes, that seems like peculiar name for a Hispanic man. I thoughts so myself and as it turns out Vishwas is an Indian name. It was his fathers name, his grandfathers name, his great-grandfathers name, you get the picture, pretty much been passed down in his family for generations. How and why his first ancestor was named will come to flourishen as we get further along in this epic tale I am recounting for you.

Now many years ago I saw Vishwas. That is right, today wasn't the first time. The first time I saw him he was but three feet tall playing in an attic of an old farm house. The farm house was empty and the people that had once lived there had vacated long ago. Many kids in the neighborhood would cross the field to this farmhouse and play inside it. There were no signs or bolted doors telling us not to enter or trespass. And what child wouldn't want an adventure into an old farm house? It was like a giant play house, just waiting for our imagination to take over. I remember Vishwas was in the attic and that I saw him the third time I went to the house. Being the systematic child that I was, it made sense that the third time I went into the house would be the day to explore the attic, since the attic was on the third floor.

When I reached the top step, I saw him to my right in a corner. He was swinging his arm up and down, making whooshing noises every time his arm dipped down. As I got closer I caught sight of a boat in his hand. However, the one peculiar thing I noticed about him was that his forehead crenated with trust and belief. Like you just knew somehow that this child believed that anything was possible. I knew in my heart that he believed like the Bible stories I heard in Sunday school, and that walking on water and raising people from the dead where not out of the ordinary but everyday occurrences. I am sure you are wondering how I could know all this about him without even speaking one word to him. Especially, since I myself was about six years old. All I can say is that I just knew, the words radiated from him to me without so much as a whisper in the wind. Like silent melodies floating from one reality to another.

To be continued...