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  • And the winner is…

    2012 - 02.26

    And the winner is…

    When I was in the second grade I was yet to become jaded by life. No one had told me that another person was inferior because of the color of their skin, their religious beliefs or how much money they had in the bank. Another great thing about being in the second grade, there was no “special ed”; we simply learned how to co-exist in a classroom and I learned more from that than any textbook.

    There was a boy in my class that had funny looking hair, wore dark glasses and wore clothes that even I could tell were threadbare. He was nice to me, was very funny (I always fell for the boys with a good sense of humor) and said I smelled nice. And he just happened to be blind. If he hadn’t been he may not have liked my red hair, my millions of freckles, the way my shoes “ate” my socks, or the way I had a habit of getting half of my collar turned into the neckline of my dress. Because he had no physical sight, he only “saw” the way I talked, teased him and the scent of my Prell shampoo. You know, I’ve forgotten many of the boys I’ve met in my life but I’ve never forgotten Paul Johnson of Spokane.

    I have an ulterior motive for what I’ve written because it’s actually about politics. Anyone that knows me well knows that I’m as likely to discuss politics as I am religion: I don’t. But in this time of mud-slinging, hurling snide and hurtful accusations, I’m just tired. One thing that I don’t understand, among many, is the fact that politicians insult each other so much yet when they concede their own bid for election, they turn around and laud praise upon the remaining president-elect. Unfortunately, this is done on both sides of the aisle; no party is exempt.

    I’d never wish for anyone to be blind like my friend, Paul, but I wish we all had his “sight”. Wouldn’t it be nice if all we could smell was their shampoo and be able to tell by the inflection of their voice whether or not they are lying? I realize that’s oversimplifying, but you get my drift.

    I wish our country the best, that God will bless us with worthy leaders, that the right person is sworn into office. I wish we no longer would lose sons and daughters on foreign soil. I wish everyone had a place to sleep and heat to keep them warm. And I wish no one had to get into that bed hungry. I wish that instead of attacking each other verbally, and sometimes physically, we’d work together for the greater good of our wonderful nation.

    Do you think I’m asking for too much?

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