Tuesday, March 30, 2010

the little boy with the rubiks cube.

as i watch the boy with a rubik's cube, i can't help but ponder the unknown of his future. no more than nine-years-old, with a sharp mind and an obvious enjoyment for life. no one can possibly know what his tale will tell. no one can predict what the age of ten may have in store or what changes will grace him at the age of eighteen. no one can foresee the experiences he'll have at twenty-five or what pains he will feel at forty. if he could see his future would he cringe in fear? if he could view ten years from now would he smile in delight?

will the little boy with the rubik's cube ask himself despairingly, "how did this happen"? or will he simply refuse to let his mind venture there? perhaps he will, one day, fear for his heart; afraid it's triumphant beat may stop--when he feels the power, the insanity, of a broken heart--the kind of pain that can make grown men hurl over and weep. the pain that leaves a man feeling lost in his own, familiar home.

and perhaps when that happens the boy with the rubik's cube will think to himself, where do i find the fairness? and perhaps the woman at the coffee shop will respond, "i cannot tell you. i have yet to find it in this coffee house." so the boy with the rubik's cube will ask the european man sitting on the park bench, sir where can i find fairness? his tired eyes will look out at the ducks in the pond, "i do not know son. i have yet to find it here. or across the seas in my home of macedonia." but the little boy with the rubik's cube will not give up. perhaps he will then ask the woman at gate a-22... "fairness?" she'll question the boy's inquiry, "i don't know the word. and i assure you, it cannot be found anywhere these planes can take you." feeling discouraged and too tired to ask again, the little boy with the rubik's cube approachs a young man walking a fluffy dog with crooked legs. there were no words exchanged--there were none to sufficiently describe-- the young man's eyes said it all. the little boy with the rubik's cube nodded and slowly turned away.

for a moment he will decide to simply not try, but then he'll remember some words his father once told him. boy, life isn't fair. but that doesn't mean it isn't beautiful. the little boy with the rubiks cube's eyes fill with peaceful tears as he turns to see the woman in the coffee shop give him a wink and a smile. his heart begins to beat loudly as he watches the european man on the park bench sip sofly from his drink and throw more crumbs at the ducks. he feels warmth on his back as he thinks of the woman at terminal a-22 traveling to exotic places...and he'll softly weep as he sees the young man and the fluffy dog with crooked legs sitting with their beautiful family, surrounded by love.

ok, so life isn't fair. but something about that makes it beautiful. and as i watch the little boy with the rubik's cube sitting next to me, i almost feel responsible to warn him of the things i so naively did not understand...but i guess thats the way God wants it. we have to learn about pain. we have to to learn about love, understanding, anger and patience. we have to learn for ourselves, because you can read about them; you can listen as they're sung about it songs. you can discuss them in school, at work and in church, but nothing is going to teach you to understand better than feeling for yourself. and nothing is going to teach you about love better than loving for yourself...

so. hm. little boy with the rubik's cube, God knows what He is doing.

He must.

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from keen.