Cruising

“Can I change the course?” The child asked.

“Of course,” said The Prophet. “But why do you want to switch your course?”

“Cause we’re going in the wrong direction.”

“How’s that Child?”

“Well, the white house I’m seeking is over there, in front of me. It’s before my eyes, and Mr. Whale keeps moving away from it because he’s floating westward instead of northward.”

“Mr. Whale is cruising correctly, Child.”

“No, he’s not,” The Child said and sat up from where she had been lying, on Mr. Whale’s back, and caught hold of his dorsal fin. “There’s nothing wrong with my eyes. You just want to prolong my journey.”

“For whatever reason, Child?”

“Can I change the course or not, Prophet?”

“Of course, you can.”

“Are you going with me?”

“I haven’t taken a walk on the water since we left the cove. I think I’ll take a walk.”

“Then, I’ll leave the lily pad here and see you there. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Sure, Child.”

She tweaked Mr. Whale’s dorsal fin; he turned and started cruising northward with her on his back.

“That’s funny, Mr. Whale,” The Child said after she’d been cruising on his back for hours. “The more we cruise toward the house, the more it disappears.”

The sun began to set; the starless sky darkened; the ocean waves roared, and Mr. Whale stopped cruising.

“Are you tired, Mr. Whale?” The Child asked. “Me too. I have no idea where we are.”

“Child?”

“Prophet, where are you?”  The Child shouted.

“On your starboard side, Child, walking westward.”

“But how can that be?  Mr. Whale and I were going northward.”

“Child, I haven’t changed my course. You have just cruised toward me.”

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

Be_Be Be Bop Bop Bops Believe

Mr. Whale swam along the right side of the lily pad splashing water on the right corner of the lily pad every time he did a deep dive.

The Prophet sat on the left side of the lily pad watching the precocious Child sitting in the middle singing her heart out.

“Be_be be bop bop bops believe,

Bop bop bop believe,

Be_be be bop bop bops believe,  

Yeah, yeah,

Bop bop bops believe.”

“What are you singing, Child?”

“I woke up with it stirring in my heart, Prophet, and it won’t go away.”

“Well… it’s a mighty powerful song.”

“Why’s that, Prophet?”  And The Child sang further,

“Be_be be bop bop bops believe,

Bop bop bops believe.”

 

“What do you think?” The Prophet asked.

“Right now, it’s helping me to look ahead.”

“Then, the song strengthens you, Child?”

“Yep. I feel power coming into me. Prophet?”

“Yes, Child?”

“It seems like years since we left the warm shelter where we sojourned for the past eleven months but it’s only been hours.”

“Sometimes it seems that way.”

“Couldn’t we have stayed there?” And The Child started singing once more.

“Be_be be bop bop bops believe,

Yeah, yeah,

Bop bop bops believe.

“Do you think you would have heard that song or have seen Mr. Whale again if we had stayed?”

“No, Prophet, I don’t.”

“And what about your journey? Do you want to end it now, Child, when you’re so close?”

“Maybe, that’s why I woke up hearing that song, Prophet. I need to remind myself to keep believing. What do you think?”

“Could be, Child, could be.”

“Be_be be bop bop bops believe,

Bop bop bop believe,

Be_be be bop bop bops believe,  

Yeah, yeah,

Bop bop bops believe.”

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

Ah, Awoke, Affinity

“Ah,” said The Child.

“Awoke?”

“Yes and no, Prophet.”

“Why so undecided, Child?”

“Ah…” The Child sighed as she stretched her arms upward while lying on her lily pad.

“You want to tell me what you’re ahing, Child?”

“The sun is rising. It’s beautiful.”

“Indeed, it is Child. Indeed it is, but it’s time for you to eat your seaweed so we can get going.”

“Do we have to, Prophet? Can’t I just stay here and enjoy the sunrise?”

“Child, that sunrise showed up especially for you this morning. There will be other sunrises along the way.”

“Are you sure, Prophet?”

“Very sure.”

“But how do you know? What if I give up this sunrise and move out and there’re no other sunrises.”

The Prophet looked at the dogged Child. Her delightful ahs had turned to dreadful woes.  His heart softened. The affinity that had grown between them had captured his heart.  He glanced at her with compassion in his eyes, seeing the valley she did not see: the strength she would need to get through: the joy she would receive when she had overcome.

“What about your friend, Mr. Whale? Don’t you want to see him again?”

“I haven’t seen him since he went away skipping across the water,” The Child mumbled.

“Ah,” said The Prophet.

“Now you’re ahing, Prophet?”

“Look ahead, Child. What do you see?”

In the light of the sun, she saw an animal with a dorsal fin and black fluke shaped like a butterfly wading in the water.

“It’s him!  Ah! Mr. Whale, here I am!”

“Ready to move out, Child?”

“Think so, Prophet.”

And as Mr. Whale approached, The Child, sitting on her lily pad, ate her seaweed and looked at the sun as The Prophet mapped out the difficulties ahead.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

The A To Z Blog Challenge 2015

On April 1, the A to Z Blog Challenge for 2015 begins, and I will be taking part once again.

The challenge is a time where writers come together and write about topics and situations that interest them and make acquaintances. 

A small group of people has come together to lead us through the challenge this year and I would like to thank them in advance for accepting the responsibility to walk with every writer who participates. 

Also in advance, I would like to thank every reader who will visit my blog.  Normally, I feature the Blog Challenge on one of my WordPress blogs as well as TypePad and Blogger, but this year it will be featured on Blogger at www.patgarciaandeverythingmustchange.com and TypePad at www.patgarciaschaack.com - Wind, Rain, Winding Roads & Sunshine ––The By-Ways Of Life only.

My theme featuring The Child and The Prophet will continue.  

So, I look forward to your dropping by as The Child moves out on her lily pad into the unknown with The Prophet as her guide and The Whale as her friend.  Who knows, maybe she will meet a new companion on the way that will join her. 

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

Repression, A Commentary

Any time a country allows people entrance beyond their borders, ideologies clash. 

Afraid of the new culture surrounding them, the ideologies embedded in the immigrant's mind make him fear, and his fear turns to disdainfulness. He segregates himself into a group like himself and begins to idolize what he has left behind in his homeland. Soon, his reasons for escaping become mixed with the discontent he experiences in his host country.  

His lack of language skills, a key principle, for an adjustment in any new environment, put stumbling blocks in his paths. Educational progress, which leads to good jobs, is limited, affecting the immigrant's emotional stability. Unable to understand the struggle his host nation has overcome, the misplaced immigrant soon realizes that the good life he saw on television doesn't happen as quickly as buying a MacDonald's hamburger or a chicken sandwich from Chic-Fil-A.

What happened in France is dolorous. Intercultural diversity collided with repression. Cultures bounced against one another.

Too long, we have invited the immigrant to come in without ensuring he understands the ideology upon which our western culture is founded. We have neglected to find out how he thinks and to teach him our vision of democracy.

Yesterday, men, whose cultural ideology is different than ours: who believe that respect means repression, killed ten prominent thinkers and two protectors of the French Society.

Let us hope that these twelve people did not die in vain. That the streets across our western world will fill with people who have the courage to stand up and say, I am Charlie!

Shalom,

Pat Garcia