People
buzzed about the book table like bees around a hive. From where I sat, near the
side door, it looked like the bizarre was a huge success.
I
watched folks walking by, checking out table after table of everything from
handcrafted walking sticks, jewelry and cards to homemade bakery goods, sloppy-joes
and ice cream bars.
Most
folks found something to buy—that they didn’t need—usually food.
I could see the flat screen TV mounted on a wall behind the
bakery tables. It was clear across the room, but I could tell it was showing
the beginnings of the Presidential Inauguration.
Somebody
stopped by and bought a book, we chatted a bit, and I tried to stay focused but
my eyes kept wandering over to the television set.
Laughter
erupted and music started playing and all at once a line of people marched in
dressed like, well, picture The Hee-Haw band. Bib overalls and bare feet, a metal
garbage can and a moonshine jug were just a few of the instruments that made up
the rag-tag Whispering Pines Fun Band.
They paraded
along singing and smiling, having a great time, acting plumb stupid.
The
lady next to me had two tables filled with all kinds of jewelry and an
assortment of beautiful stones; one of which, she said, “Keeps people from
being crabby.” She gave me one.
A hundred
bobbing heads milled about between me and the TV, but I could see it was
getting close for the inauguration to begin.
Every
now and then the booming voice of the park manager would echo from every
speaker, one was directly over my head. He’d say stuff like: “Hurry and get
your tickets our next drawing’s in five minutes.” Or… “Stop by our sponsor’s
booth in the next ten minutes and get…” Or like a game show host, “The next
person who brings me a finger nail clippers wins a…”
A lady
stopped in front of my table and the booming game show voice didn’t seem to bother
her a bit. She read the scrolling Power Point presentation for one of my books.
When I spoke, she didn’t seem to notice at first, but then she motioned with
her hands telling me she was deaf. We communicated with what little sign
language I had. She typed her name into her phone and held it out, motioning
for me to speak into it.
I did.
It wrote what I said. We chatted back and forth like that for a
good little bit.
After
she left, I could see the inauguration was getting close, real close, President
Trump was on the screen.
Someone else was talking to me, I tried to pay attention, really, I did, but my eyes kept
wandering back to that screen. Finally, they noticed my divided attention and
looked toward the screen. “You think he’ll do us any good?”
I just
smiled and said, “I’ve been praying he would.”
I left the
book table unattended and made my way to a chair near the bakery tables. The television
volume was on, but with all the chatter it was hard to make out what was being
said. Folks continued buying and selling, talking and laughing and doing what
they’d come
to do—have fun.
A moment
later president Trump stood with his left hand on two Bibles; one given to him
by his mother and the other had belonged to Abraham Lincoln.
The
chatter quieted, a gentle rain started to fall in Washington DC and he uttered
The Oath of Presidents to be:
"I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully
execute the office of President of the United States and will to the best of my
ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. So
help me God."
A
record number of prayers were prayed.
As the National
Anthem was played the folks continued to mingle, eat and drink, but a remnant
gathered; huddled in a ragged sort of horse shoe, around the front of the
bakery tables. We stood, hats off, hands over our heart and sixteen year old, Jackie
Evancho, brought grown men and war heroes to tears.
The president
began his Inaugural Address, one of the shortest ever…during which time our
game show host grabbed the microphone which sat fifteen feet to the left of the
TV and announced something like basement bottom dollar brownies and sloppy-joes
being half off.
At
first that got under my skin and respect for the man hit bottom dollar, but
then, something happened.
My eyes
bounced back and forth between two men behind a microphone; The President of
the United States and the game show host.
As I
looked him in the eye, he nodded and lifted a little smile.
I didn’t
want to smile. The badder angels urged me to shout, “Turn off the mic sit down
and shut up.” But, better angels bit my tongue. And before I had time to get all riled up in
my own self-righteousness, I heard the President, quote Psalm 133:1 "How
good and pleasant it is when God's people live together in unity.”
I was
glad he used the translation that says, “God’s people” instead of “brethren”
for that would’ve set off a firestorm of its own.
Then, The
President said it was time to remember what soldiers will never forget, “we all
bleed the same red blood” and all of us share the same night sky and are "infused
with the breath of life by the same almighty Creator"
It gave
me pause.
I
remembered my new found friend, how the best communication I’d had all day was
with her who was deaf and mute. I only half listened to everyone else, but with
her, of necessity, I paid attention.
Perhaps,
if all the world were deaf and mute, we’d pay attention more and communicate
better.
I looked
at the man who moments before had irritated me so, and paid attention, put myself in his shoes.
I
thought of how he had a job to do, and he was doing it well. He had an agenda
to follow and a responsibility to keep the event rolling, to entertain folks—be
the game show host.
To his
credit he said he had waited until “after the speech” referring to The Oath,
but at that very moment, he was interrupting the Inaugural Address of the President…must
not have been paying attention.
Nevertheless,
in that moment of shoe swapping, of paying attention, my disgust lifted and
peace settled.
I
nodded back and returned the smile.
And just
like that, all the folks around me talking and laughing and shuffling about
were no longer noisy distractions, with irritating differences, but intriguingly
unique, brothers and sisters infused with the breath of life by the same almighty
Creator.
3 comments:
Oh, Doug, what a marvelous observation and reflection you've shared here! When President Trump uttered those words from the Psalm, I had goosebumps and tears sprang to my eyes. It's been so very, very long since God was welcomed into the White House, into Washington, D.C., and into so many dark places in this country desperate to hear the Word.
As Virginia observed (thanks for your comment there!): We are all brothers and sisters.
Blessings!
Oh, and I will order your book soon. You can check out my novels at www.gladetrilogy.wix.com/theglade
Hey Doug I read both of your books that Betty bought at the Bazzar and they were both great books but the Voice still remains the best. You are such a great person and a fantastic writer keep up the good work and write another novel /
Great perspective, Doug, and a lesson all of us can stand to learn. Blessings on your weekend!
Post a Comment