I believe in laughter. Of all the gifts given mankind, none has done more for the nourishment of my my soul than laughter…the gloriously unfettered bass roll of my Irish father as he related stories to a group of men while they sttod waiting for their wives and children to finish their shopping in the small town in which I was raised…the wonderfully warm and silky sound of our mothers laughter as they sat on the front porch and sipped ice tea on hot summer afternoons while watching us play under the sycamores…the stifled giggles of my brother and me as we bunched together in the dark of the “sleeping porch” listening to the radio long after we had been sent to bed…and the squealing happiness of childhood as we left the school yaard at the end of May with a never-ending summer before us.
I grieve deeply for the children and grand-children of the ’60’s. I grieve because many of them have not known the security of a safe and loving home; they have not learned that life is a learning experience and nothing is really instant; they are children without a childhood.
In the face of the world’s cruelty, poverty, and ignorance, they have not leaarned the value of being at peace with oneself and being able to laugh at the woes and misreies of one’s own life. They have not learned positivity; their glass is always half-full. With this attitude, it is easy to fall into the overwhelming abyss of despair. In a world of drama queens and over-achievers and those who are always winners and never losers, it is easy to lose sight of what is really needed in this world. What this world needs more than money, social status, and the next “big idea” is for mankind to understand is that we ARE our brothers’ keepers. Oh, yeah, and a great big belly laugh!
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