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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Sightseeing (08/08/05)
In my mind’s eye there remain several pictures. They revolve like a calliope through the past. A picture of me as a child; a newlywed on her honeymoon; an elderly lady at the store. All pictures of events past, gone, memories only. The trip to Disney and my stay at the Disney Campground. The picture of me in Yogi Bear’s picnic basket. (There was garbage in it). The final result was a cute picture of a cute child, in a basket smiling for the camera. The garbage was hidden from sight- but still there. As in life, we fly through the days with the garbage properly hidden and our “game face” in place. But it still lurks; hidden under the pictures we show the world.

A picture of my mother, a young girl herself, as she leans against a tree on her honeymoon trip. A picture of her triumph, her victory and her defeat: he married her out of duty. She caught him; but did she keep him? Ultimately he failed her although he tried to do right by her. His version of ‘doing right’ not necessarily the generally accepted standard of the meaning of the words, but his own unique version. Again the garbage is hidden from the casual observer. A close look at the same woman after many years might betray a hint of sadness, yet just a hint. Aren’t we all experts at hiding the wounds so deeply driven?

My great-aunt, childless, widowed, lonely. A simple trip out to the store after several years of self imposed isolation is an event. After a lifetime of cocktail parties, entertaining business executives, living among the stars of Hollywood and having friends of wealth and influence, she sits alone in a house in Indiana. A house with the relics of a life lived for the world- fur coats and cocktail dresses for her nieces to sigh over and look at wonderingly. They traveled hundreds of miles for her to enjoy some outings to the store. An event captured in the snapshot of her smiling at the checkout line. Yet beneath it is an isolation that can not be fulfilled by a visit from nieces, no matter how long they stay or how many times they come.

Snapshots of memorable events- memorable perhaps only because of their purpose: to hide from the casual observers (life’s sightseers) the insecurity, the hurt, the loneliness, that which cannot be removed without the touch of the divine. He heals the blind- yet who has sight? Life’s seekers of sights, those who live to show how much they live; how far they go, whom they meet and what they see; see nothing. The blind, the wounded, they see much more. He comes to bind the wounded, to heal the brokenhearted- yet who admits to such wounds? Life’s a game to the seekers of sights. Will they one day meet the One who will open their eyes? Before it is too late……………?
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Member Comments
Member
Date
Shari Armstrong 
08/15/05
A nice portrait of how we never know by just looking, we have to see. Good job.
Phyllis Inniss 
08/16/05
An indictment of society. So true are your words. Only in seeking Him can we really see the truth.
Shirley Thomas
08/17/05
Your words are so true. A great teaching is found in your article. Thanks for sharing!
Nina Phillips
08/21/05
I thought there was somewhat a lull to the storm there in your words. It was so smoothly written. Sort of like being in the eye of a hurricane. Very nice entry. God bless, littlelight