This I Believe

Dawn - Nashville, Tennessee
Entered on August 6, 2007
Age Group: 30 - 50
Themes: children

Some time ago my partner and I, ventured down the street for a round of ‘The Princess Game’, not a new tv reality show, but a board game our young neighbor Ella plays. Cinderella, played by Uncle Jerry, won while I, Snow White, lost multiple times.

As we prepared to leave, Ella asked me to come upstairs. At the top of the steps she whispered, “I want you to have my b.” Never had a runner up in a game or contest received such a special gift. You see Ella’s had many soft, silky blankets she calls b’s in her young life but this was one of her first.

I lost the Princess Game but I floated home feeling like a queen, my prize the little worn blanket.

That night I slept with the b at my side. Regardless of what had happened in the world that day that I found distressing, it was enough that this loving child had offered me one of her dearest possessions without reservation.

Upon studying the blanket the next morning, I realized it was covered with drawings of children, children of many cultures. Each tan, brown, white and black baby floated on its own little cloud. Despite their racial differences, each cloud was the same and each child appeared content. None were looking around comparing and competing to see who had the bigger or better cloud. Upon looking more closely, I realized each child on Ella’s b had wings. Each child was an angel.

I wondered, ‘When do we begin to change? When do we start comparing clouds and accumulating them, thinking one won’t suffice? When do we decide we need bigger and better wings? More importantly when do we forget our wings altogether?’

It seems we slowly trade our wings for things. We buy into the illusion that security can be purchased through the right zip codes, jobs, schools and cars while wearing the latest haircuts, clothing and styles. We’ve social security for our later years, security systems for our cars and homes and Homeland Security for our country. Somehow we’ve forgotten real security is an inside job.

If we remembered regardless of class, color or creed that everyone is created in the image of the Divine, hunger would be inexcusable and poverty unacceptable. Corporate, political and personal misuse of power would cease. People would be seen from the bottom of our hearts not for their impact on the bottom line.

I believe true security isn’t found in possessions or positions, looking like Cinderalla or being born a Rockafella. It doesn’t reside in winning board games or war games, contests or conquests. I believe the source of real security comes from remembering that like the winged children on Ella’s blanket we’re all divine inside.