Thursday, May 24, 2012

A Tale of Two Worlds Souls Apart

A Tale of Two Worlds Souls Apart

It Was the Best of Innocence..It Was.. Another Political Travesty

He was a little short for his age, curse of the Irish.. though angelic compliment for all seven year old boys of the ancestry, and he was as Irish appearing, as Danny Boy the sacred Irish lament.

The lad was at his peak with a littered trail of swooning sighs, weeping eyes,, and broken hearts of the gentle sex behind him....those daily fixtures of the church pews... primarily over sixty

However, in truth few were resistant to his cherub-like qualities as an altar boy, and with a nudge from the priest, the Sunday regulars and Easter occasional(s) unanimously concurred, and welcomed the opportunity for communal appreciative release, in recognizing such a fresh innocence, uncommon even among seven year olds.

His over concentration in a personal yearning for perfection in solemn honor of spiritual communal celebration for love of Christ made him all the more Marcelino-ish adorable. He perfectly represented the youth Christ claimed so dear to His heart, that no one would begrudgingly sacrifice him up to Christ, had He taken him to His arms so early.

Concentrating so seriously during Mass...eyes constantly darting side to side, gaging his proper distances, pace and making sure that the priest was still behind him, the shy youngster would be mortified if he knew so many eyes were on him, that he may be the centre of attention over his beloved Jesus at any time in the Mass.

At times, his official capacity not being directly called upon..and thinking he was somehow also out of sight, he would take the opportunity if not for a relaxing sigh of relief, than so, to hitch up his short drawers through his brilliant white gown. From the main body of the parish Church, His whole face disappeared behind the chalice he carried to the back of the Altar, and only tiny-ish hands in thin air seemed to land the chalice beside the celebrating pastor.

Today was his day off, and he asked of nothing more than for dad to take him on the paddle-boat on the private beaver pond. Like Andy and Opie they made the slow lazy way up a path on the Canadian Shield aesthetically worn with just enough flat bedrock of long-cooled waves of stone and an equal amount of green breaks lined with every manner of Ontario natural tree, shrub, and wild flower... the poplar leaves dancing pleasingly to breezes.. maples could not catch.

It wasn't a time for Michael (alias) to shed his worries, concerns, fears, or apprehension.. he hadn't any.

It was a time for dad to drop kick any he may have had within a opaque haze of modern societal disturbance.... hardly forefront but all the same, resting at the back of one's mind like annoying swarms of black or deer flies.... over the high horizon of majestic pines lining the whole giant pond shoreline for a couple of hours.

They raced to the sounds of a small flurry of paddled water, to the gray turtle who glittered only in the sunlight making him unwittingly shine apart from the toppled log he chose to dry on... and they came close enough to a young beaver that he had no time to slap the water in his quick dive for home. The kingfisher family nest on a half exposed grayish white, sun bleached branchless pole of a tree trunk in the middle of the pond was gone this year, perhaps, just relocated but hopefully, in the same beautified neighborhood.

The jagged edged pole seemed to point like an arrow.... from this... massive only original in existence, gift... only conceptionalized by the master artist, for someone able to appreciate the natural perfumes and sharp sculptured borders of millions of leaves and billions of needles, and thousands of wild blooms in brilliant color of an Eden reflected in the calming still surface of the cool water, splendid in the simplicity, man will never understand in its greatest efforts, never mind supplant... beckoning one to the greater appreciation of the heaven above.

There is no need or beauty of art that can be found in ones mind, or that can supplant Gods art, when so much abounds in various mediums of the reality of art around us. The world is surely a contrast of Eden and Hell.

Neither, knew what really made these trips special...they didn't have to. That's the beauty of gifts and the mystery of God. Son didn't know why, that it struck him as the kind of occasion to sing aloud, but only, as a duet and he coaxed dad gently to accompany him, in celebration of happiness or in thanks to God, in once and at one in the same.

They both met on this same plain of happiness, but only one had to move..and move far, from the purity of innocence long lost, but not forgotten and truly of the fondest of memories..the innocence society so now despises... a more skeptical person might be forgiven for giving reason of such... as jealousy.

There was nothing on Michael's mind that society would now have him concerned with, outside of dad or mom's knowledge, had they had their way, at a tender age of seven and why should there be? Is it to the young Michaels now to solve the world's problems adults can't or to them to placate the hurting or satiate guilty consciences of others? Were we not allowed our turn and time of innocence? Like third world concerns have we so designated our concern with our own flesh and blood?

Have we substituted our 'hurry-up' academic learning with populist social justice and community faux-guilt? Is this the cost to be exacted and worthy of the destruction of tender and most beautiful innocence? Everyone is either standing still, or in a rush, but  only to to see who gets to hell first.

My God... my God...this is where we are now!

It is no coincidence that in the year of our Lord 2012, that innocence is being tramped and piled upon, as equal as Jesus is in formally 'free' Christian nations because Jesus and innocence are the same, Lambs of God as sure as Jesus is the Truth that can set us all free again... and again if necessary.

In headlines typical, over exceptional... of this very day and of ironic place of Los Angeles, local police forces are going to be speaking to third graders in an effort to curb gang membership. Authorities said the program was prompted by a trend of children as young as five years old getting involved in gangs. They attribute that to a lack of family structure and, in some cases, hereditary gang membership where a child's father or brother are involved in gang activity.

This is hardly the totality of all destruction of families and innocence of youth but it is a stark snapshot of the perversion of the free world's priorities and of all its levels of government, or the judicial, or the Catholic and Christian Churches in its complete and utter failure in leading, guiding and inability to even merely in keep up with societal accelerated decay.

It is no longer enough to sympathize for others who may have had their innocence with natural carefree happiness within its unique domain alone, raped from their spirit, through no fault of their own...and those who were enticed into webs at others pleasure, at the blackened hands of third parties... Christ the Truth, spared no condemnation for.

Most despicable of all, the one time that one- off temporary resident politicians, decide to 'lead' it is to ensure destruction of child innocence is complete and spear-headed by 'officials', with nothing more to their natural narcissistic end, than simply to be re-elected for a comparable eternal nothingness, worldly term or two. The grandest attribute of politics should be its recognition of its smallest needed place, and least intrusiveness, into society, except to minimally serve. Unfortunately, its mistakes well outlast its good and far out last its heroes in times measured in generations.

Politicians in these desperate times have absolutely nothing to offer...ask them. Like lemmings to a cliff all they know is that their cliff is power in the hierarchy of political position. Once they arrive at their cliff they know not what to do, nor did they ever have a plan. Their reason for being is now only in the game up to elections and whatever rewards they can pocket once they get there. They tell us nothing, mostly because they have nothing and we sit in the back of the station wagon seeing only where we've been, not realizing our parental leaders have no idea where they are going or when they are going to crash. Thats politicians seeking merit badges for small and big politically correct favours, not leaders with a plan let alone desire to implement one.

They do know that they reached the top through strict adhering to political correctness and the way to stay on the top is through strict political correctness. Some even spearhead the causes of politically causes lobbiest groups push on to them.

Regardless, of being humanist god, and godless- made, the likes of Kennedy, Hitler, Churchill or Einstein are soon to be forgotten... as indicative of today's youthful knowledge or care of such.

(Alas, the lesson most not learned in history is that heroes and political power are way over-rated and like man heroes political and celebrity start dying as soon as they are born.)

But, ask them who Jesus is, whose church will survive the very gates of Hell (if not most of the membership and hierarchy) and even with the wildest of world effort sometimes within churches themselves enamored with socialism.... or idealism of the kind sent from Hell with love to the human condition, youth will still know of Him, who for over two thousand years is still a household much more occasional thought.... if not name.

Long live God given freedom of the word...spoken and written in sincere belief (two of socialism's most dreaded enemies) praised, faulted or deferred.

Despite, all the love songs and poetry ever written innocence is the most beautiful thing we ever could cherish, the best times in our memory, and it is the last gift to go.

Paul Gordon

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