letters from barabbas

There's a cry I have had: that I could love my brothers
Not to look at their race, their religion or their color
You love the Presbyterians, and the gays and the lesbians
You love the Buddhists and the prostitutes
You're not like us--we're always changing
But you see through our sins, and you love us anyway

My eyes welled up a little as Emily's words ran round and round my head:

Oh, Mama, just look at me one minute as though you really saw me. Mama, just for a moment let's be happy. Let's look at one another!
I can't! I can't go on! It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another. I didn't realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed! Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anyone to realize you! Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it--every, every minute?

Alex had finished singing and spread himself across my chest by the last page:

"I am sorry," sighed the tree.
"I wish that I could
give you something...
but I have nothing left. I am just
an old stump. I am sorry...."

"I don't need very much now,"
said the boy,
"just a quiet place to sit and rest.
I am very tired."
"Well," said the tree,
straightening herself up
as much as she could,
"well, and old stump is good
for sitting and resting.
Come, Boy, sit down.
Sit down and rest."

And the boy did.

And the tree was happy.

# posted by David : 12:17 PM