Subjects

The Little Snowflake

The little snowflake

There’s no denying it’s good to be a snowflake, the harshest of temperatures do not bother us, of course they don’t. we have no nerve cells! just beautifully sharp and sparkly edges.  The best thing about being what we are has to be the reaction from the small wobbly beings that are attached to the planet, they squeal when they see us. The taller ones…. they don’t squeal, they groan scraping us off of their metal boxes on wheels and complain about things called ‘roads’ being impossible to pass. We don’t know why you don’t float like we do, it’s a much better way to get around.  But it looks like most of you don’t enjoy being beings much of the time.  You take to your metal boxes in wheels and sit on these roads you mention.  Desperately trying to get to a place the vast majority of you do not seem to like.   

We see much of your interaction from our viewpoint.  We see that the taller ones are in charge, some have many wobbly ones under their care, others have one or none.  We see the boxes you inhabit, we can’t quite figure out why a tall one with five wobblers has a small box but two tall ones with one wobbler has a much bigger box, but we’re sure there is a reason.

We see how different you all are, in appearance and action.  Some are kind, patient and loving.  Some are not, they are sad, sickly or broken but no two are the same.  Some are given an elevated status in your culture, treated to larger, more decorated boxes, flying birds and prestige (yes we know what prestige is, we are clever little snowflakes).

You look to be ruled by an array of things. Your leaders, your boxes – both those on wheels and those that are static. You’re governed by how much fuel you have and your tiny bits of green and blue paper. In our world there is no leader, there’s no anarchy either, we’ve never been told what to do so we’ve never felt the need to rebel, follow or change it.  We just are, we float and settle. We’re made into snowballs, we glisten and are captured on your cameras.  Why you want a flat echo of the vast sparkling beauty we make when many thousands of us bind together, rather than experiencing the event with all your senses is beyond us, but this is what you do.  We are light and we sway to and fro knowing not where we land, just that we are meant to land.  We are made knowing this is our purpose, from what we’ve seen it looks like you wish you had as much clarity.

It looks like you fight about these small bits of green and blue paper and a thick black substance which fuels many of your boxes. You fight about what the lighter ones do to the darker ones.  The ones with too much sustenance seem to decide what can be done with or about the ones that have not enough.  Periodically taller beings produce tiny wobbly ones which grow and in turn produce their own wobblers and yet no one monitors this.  You procreate with no thought of how many more your planet can sustain.  From up here it seems the ones that have no sustenance make more wobblers to feed then they can manage, how odd to continually produce something you love so much but cannot provide for. 

Its not all so odd,   Many of you have noble qualities and do things which makes others happier, healthier, safer. And just when the temperature drops, the darkness takes over and it gets closer to the time when we can visit, something happens. Some of you feel a change, a shift in perception and thought.   You call this time Christmas and celebrate your boxes and roads by attaching lights and decorations to them. 

True, some of you are sadder at this time. You mourn beings you can no longer see or converse with. And yes, some of you are unaffected by the change that others feel.  It’s not everywhere and not by everyone but in some places and by some beings the fighting stops.  For just a while, some of the taller ones are nicer to those that are aren’t so clean and don’t have boxes to go in when it’s cold.  Some of you show how much good you can do and it is a wonder to behold.  You’re capable of immense grace and for a small moment in your calendar some of you extend that grace as far as it can reach.  We watch as it crosses your planet.

No two of you experience the exact same emotion…. And you think we’re all unique!


© Copyright 2015 ATB

For Charley...

It's a well know fact that parts of Africa are dangerous, though the majority of the people are kind and loving some are ruthless and violent.  When you are in a project (a cross between a school and an orphanage) in the middle of nowhere, two hrs from the nearest building that passes for a hospital and nearly a day's drive from Nairobi you can feel a little insecure.  What helps is having someone around that knows the area, looks like a General and speaks with the gentleness of Jesus to a child.  For me, that was Charley.

Charley's brother was married to the programme's director Ruth but he left when the marriage broke down, Charley stayed.  Honestly other than walk around I have no idea what he did but make the place feel safe (which is no small feat when the only thing between you and whoever's outside is a somewhat rickety iron gate).  He had a calmness that can't be emulated, with an inner (as well as obvious outer) strength, the man seemed like relaxation personified. 

Every time we left the project there were always several police checks along broken down roads.   We were told that we'd be fine as because we were white the police weren't likely to be attack us or proposition us for bribes but we heard stories of those that were. Were it needed, there was little chance of reinforcement reaching us in any amount of time.  It was safe to say every check I went through made me more than a little nervous, I'd smiled my nicest white girl smile and breathed out slowly as the policeman with a stern face waved us on. 

Charley came with us on our final trip to Nairobi to fly home.  When we got to the first police check  as usual the man in charge peered in the van but rather than frown and wave us through he saluted.  It wasn't me or my husband or the woman that was voluntarily looking after 400 African children that aren't her own or the driver he was saluting, it was Charley.  Reclining in the back of the van, Charley, in his casual way saluted back. 

I recently found out that Charley, the strongest man I came across during my stay in Africa passed away from Meningitis.  The words 'what a waste' have never been so apt.  I never really thanked him for his influence during my stay and I don't think he ever really knew how much he helped to make me feel safe. There are many people that were friendly, accommodating and kind to us during our trip, but Charley stands out.

Charley I salute you.