Differences

Years ago there was a boy named Bryce Petree who used to wear shin guards whenever he mowed folks’ grass. His lawnmower had thrown a nail into his leg and he wore them after that for obvious reasons…in case there was another nail waiting in someone’s yard. He was a stooped over kind of fellow, sort of like Charles Laughton (Quasimodo the bell ringer) in the Hunchback of Notre Dame and he looked weird when he mowed. But while the rest of us thirteen year olds were making fun of him, he was making money cutting grass. It was only when I got to know him I began to appreciate his work ethic and the fact that he was still friendly, even though we had ridiculed him. I guess you could say Bryce had character.

The Ramirez brothers, Richard and Dennis, were Hispanic and Catholic. Their dad, Joe, was a strict father and would make them rake the yard of pine straw before they could play marbles in the alley with the rest of us. There was something about that which caused me to wish my dad had made me and my brother rake our yard. We didn’t think about them being Hispanic, we thought they were American. John Leslie is a friend who plays racquetball. He’s American but some call him African-American because he’s dark skinned and sometime, years ago I guess, somebody in his family came from that continent. He’s Baptist I think. I get dark when I spend a lot of time in the sun but I’m Scotch-American and Presbyterian. Another friend we call Mo is from Pakistan, is a Muslim and works in a college I.T. department. We’ve taught him how to cuss when he plays racquetball and he’s gotten pretty good at it.

I’m going to miss all these guys when our time on earth is done because I guess I’m the only one who’s going to pass through the pearly gates on my way to my heaven, me being Presbyterian. I haven’t read much about games in heaven, mostly singing and such and I worry because I can’t carry a tune in a good tile shower. I worry about not seeing the differences we have here on earth…I kind of like them…makes things interesting. Somebody said a friend is just a stranger we haven’t met yet and I believe that to be true in most cases. These are all friends of mine. I wonder what it would be like if we were all like the seagulls… there they stand, all looking the same, with an occasional pigeon thrown in, staring out to sea, waiting for the tide to come in and bring food to their feet. I’m sure they’re all thinking the same thought, how long before dinner arrives. America’s strength lies in her differences and acceptance of those differences. It’s who we are and what makes us different from other countries and it’s why we became America. Not having those differences would be like eating a mayonnaise sandwich for lunch every day.

Thank goodness we don’t all think the same, worship the same, eat the same food, or play the same games. What kind of world would that be? I blame the internet for a lot of what’s going on today. It’s a kind of Pandora’s Box we’ve opened and reveals extremism in chat rooms, news and blogs that seem to bring out the worst of the human race. And we’ve locked ourselves in our world of Ipods, cell phones and blu ray wannabee games in an effort to create our perfect environment. When I was growing up you could hear the sounds of people at night coming from their houses. Now the drone of air conditioning fills the air and I wonder if anyone is even home.