Deeply Seen part 3

This is Part 3. To start from the beginning go to labels in the right hand column. Click on A Little Story and scroll down to part one.

As we played he told me he loved me. Though just a child myself, I questioned how he could love me when we had just met. I spoke my mind, "You can't love me! You don't even know me!" He responded by saying, "I was taught that love is more than just words, it is how you play and give to people. Since I am interacting nice with you and letting you play with me, I love you. I will let you take home my boat because I love you. I want you to have whatever I have." I was a little amazed that he would just let me have whatever he had. Most kids were mean to me and wouldn't share, and they definitely would not give me what was theirs.

We played for hours that day. If fact, I was there so long that I ended up being late to dinner that night. My parents questioned where I was. I told them I had met a new friend. I showed them the boat and told them the different things we made up. I meticulously explained how the clouds moved and swirled in the wind as we looked up into the sky (well, at least in our imagination). Thankfully, after all the talk of what we did they forgot to question where exactly we played. This was a good thing, considering I was pretty sure we probably weren't really supposed to be in the abandoned house. As I got ready for bed that night, I was disappointed that the next day was a school day. I wouldn't be able to go back to play until after school and even then it would only be for a short while.

As soon as school was out the next day, I went back to the abandoned house, hoping to see Vishwas. I waited as long as I could, knowing I couldn't be late two days in a row for dinner. When we parted the day before we hadn't talk about when we would meet again. I just assumed he would be there to play. I went back everyday after school that week and waited for him to come. There were other children coming in and out of the house playing games, imagining, and scheming up all sorts of charades. Some of them asked to play with me and some just ignored me, as I ignored them. Honestly, I just wasn't interested in playing with them. My fascination and desire to play with Vishwas clouded my mind and I couldn't think about interacting with others. When I went back on Sunday, Vishwas was there, sitting in the same corner playing with a motorcycle. I was relieved to finally see him, for it had been hard waiting and wondering if he would show up. I asked him where he had been all week. He told me he was busy but today was the day he and I could see each other.

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...

Deeply Seen

Today I saw three people.

The first person was a man. He had black hair, a mustache, and brown skin. After peering at him briefly, I realized he was Hispanic. I stood a short distance away from him and watched him sit with many other men at a picnic table. I knew I was supposed to marry this man but for some reason I wasn't so attracted to him. I also knew that he had just gotten out of prison for murdering two people. I wondered how come he was out of prison so soon. Shouldn't he still be there? He couldn't have served his time yet, for he appeared to be not much more than thirty years old. He sat there talking to his friends and waiting for me to approach him. However, I continued to watch him from a distance.

I also saw a little girl. She was perhaps 8 or 9 years old. She had a sideways pigtail, her hair was brown with curls and straightness intermixed. She walked right up to me with her big brown eyes and just stared at me. She didn't say a word. I couldn't take my eyes from hers. There was something underneath the surface. She seemed almost joyful on the outside but underneath those smiling eyes she was in a liminal state. There was something hidden in her eyes, you could only see it when you looked so hard your own eyes began pounding with exhilaration. I wondered how such a little life could have seen such death. I walked away from her because I didn't want to see what else was in her eyes. As I glanced back, her arms where stretched out towards me, like she was begging me to embrace her.

The last person I saw that day was a rather large black woman in her fifties. The clothing she wore was not like anything I had seen before. She had on bright red balloon shaped pants, which rounded out far beyond the size of her legs. She wore a dress over the pants. The dress was pale blue with royal blue, that unhurriedly crept over all of the pail blue. It seemed as thought the royal blue on the dress was alive. Over and over again I saw it canopy the pale blue. It was so beautiful, like the sun rising and setting, brilliant color illuminating the sky. The woman was laughing hysterically at something in front of her. I was very drawn to her yet at the same time afraid to get to close. I yearned to feel what she was feeling, to have joy that came from the gut, rolled up, and out. It seemed as though her laughter was never ending. Would she ever catch her breath? It didn't appear as though she needed to. I was captivated. I didn't watch from a distance or turn away. I walked up to her and smiled into her eyes.

To be continued next Monday...