The Little Girl: Part VII-VIII

(And the story continues. Parts I-VI are two posts down!)


VII.
Jo the turtle herded did not need much prompting. He immediately started into the history of the turtle herders and how it all began on the very sands they now stood upon.

“The great turtle herders were formed out of necessity. It did not take long for the people of these shores to find that there was something curiously wrong with our native turtles. We began to notice that when the young turtles hatched from their eggs it was with a general sense of stupor. At first we figured it was just the shock of being born. I mean if you think about, it really must be frightening to open your eyes the first time to something completely brand new and unfamiliar. But these poor baby turtles were utterly and completely lost. They would start out crawling in one direction and then the next, and then the next until they were just spinning in circles. Eventually, they would just freeze and remain still where they were. They wouldn’t budge. The sad little things eventually…they eventually…”

The turtle herder had paused with a sad look on his face. The little girl encouraged him, “What happened Mr. Jo?”

“…they eventually died” he dropped his voice barely whispering the word,” they died on the sand in the very places they were born. Our beautiful sands were littered with the lost lives of these helpless little turtles.”

“We had to do something. Eventually we discovered that these turtles were born missing something: they had no sense of smell. They could not smell the crisp seawater to direct them. That mixed with the fact that they were being laid too far in on the sands to see the water left them in complete confusion. We began to keep watch over them, posting ourselves near the eggs and waiting for them to the hatch. Then slowly, patiently we guide them to the waters where they begin their lives. We know they will return to leave their eggs and every season we wait for them, ready to guide them back to their home.” The turtle herder paused in reverent silence at the end of his account.

“Mr. Jo,” the little girl broke the silence, “Mr. Jo, what will happen to the turtles after your little brother takes over? There’s no one after him, to take the job! How will they find their way home?” The little girl was concerned. The image of dozens of baby turtles frozen in confusion was haunting her mind. “How will they survive!?”
The turtle herder was silent. Then quietly he began, “They will be fine.”

“But how?” she asked.

The turtle herder was hesitant, “They don’t need us anymore. You see long ago, one of my relatives realized that the way to prevent this tragedy was to retrain the returning turtles. You see if the mothers would leave their eggs within in sight of the shore. The young hatchling could use their vision to guide them home. It took years, but eventually they learned.” He paused, “So you see I’m not needed anymore, I need the turtles more than the turtles need me.”

VIII.

The strange orange man stood in somber silence. The little girl could tell he was on the brink of tears again, but she wasn’t sure how to comfort him.
“Mr Jo. How long have you lived here?”
He sniffed, “All my life.”
“Then you’ve never left these sandy beaches? Ever?”
“No. No this is my home. I don’t want to leave here. Why would I even want to?”
“Mr. Jo maybe the turtles are giving you a gift.” She started gently, “Maybe they are thanking for you for guarding them for so long and now they are releasing you to leave…Maybe…Maybe they want you to go find somewhere new.”
“No, no, no” the turtle herder moaned silently.
“But Mr. Jo, the world is so big! Why this morning I discovered a different side of my bed, it’s really quite amazing!”
The turtle herder appeared confused by this statement, so she continued on.
“You have so many places yet to see. You can’t know if you’ll like them until you go. And it’s not like you won’t be coming home…the best part is that no matter where you go, you can always come home. These beaches aren’t going to move, but you can!”
The turtle herder sniffed and wiped at his eyes.
The little girl continued, “You need a vacation.” She said this in her best mom voice possible, “You help these turtles to the sea every year. Each year they get to start off on a new adventure when they reach the water and you just go home. Maybe, it’s your turn?”

The turtle herder looked down at the turtles and then far across the sandy dunes. His eyes were dry now.
“I’ve always wanted to see what’s on the other side of the water.” He started slowly. “I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to take a little trip. I mean who knows what’s on the other side out there!”
He was starting to speak rapidly. “I could ride on a ship, I could swim in the sea, I could…I could..” He fell silent again.
“What’s the matter Mr. Jo?” asked the little girl.
“How can I go, where I’ve never been before. How would I know where to go or how to get there? No, no it’s best for me to just stay home.”
He paused, “And the sea, the sea is dangerous, I wouldn’t want to do anything foolish. No, it is better for me here where it is safe.”

The little girl smiled up at the turtle herder. “It’s okay to be afraid,” she whispered gently to him. She stopped for a moment considering the turtle herder’s predicament. Then she found it. She found the solution to his anxiety.

“Mr. Jo, I’m moving on. I was planning on heading toward the sea. What if I went first? What if I went to the sea and sailed across? What if I sent you back word when I reach the other side? Would you feel better than? Would it help to know someone else has gone ahead of you?”

The turtle herder considered this. He looked across the sand toward the sea. He looked up at the sky. At last he looked down at the 8 turtles.

The little girl waited for him to speak, but he remained silent.

At last he turned to her, “But you’ll go first?”

Lost in the Current

(a preface: I realize this is a big departure from the last post and I will be continuing to post segments of the children's story, so forgo this one if you need to or bear with me)


A thought. Today at church I was listening to everyone around me sing as usual. The music leader changed the key and started into “O the Deep Deep Love of Jesus” a song I have always loved, if not for the words than for the fact that is in a minor key. The song is solemn, like a dirge. When I hear it, I hear it as a song of mourning. But when you listen to the words, its all about the love of God and how wonderful it is. I struggled to sing it today, not for the first time though. The more I think the harder it is for me see God’s love. I can imagine that someday when ALL creation is redeemed I will see God’s love brilliantly. But lately no matter what good I see in life, there is even more bad to outweigh it. It’s hard for me to think, let alone say God is love when I am watching this suffering.

Sure I’ve seen God’s love in my life. I have been more than blessed. But what about everyone else? What about those in East Africa who are starving to death? To just smile and say “God has a plan and he is love” is like spitting in their face. The reality, those children you see pictures of with their bones sticking out: they will never experience that love in this life. They will die. Their existence will only be marked by suffering and the case is the same for many other people. It’s on their behalf that I can’t see this love. You can say it’s sin..but do you really think of that child as a sinful being? In reality has it ever done anything so wrong as to deserve such a fate, such a life? So how does it work. I can’t just shake it off and say, “Some things cannot be explained. In the end it will all be explained.” I can’t say that, because as much as I believe in an ultimate end, I also believe in the present. I believe that Kingdom of God is here and now. So where is that love? As a person who works in the "helping field" and who is striving for social justice, I am daily confronted with circumstances and events that are devoid of good...that are not fair. Where is this love?

One could say it’s in us. That God has placed us to be those agents of love. But in some way that seems to imply that he has withdrawn and watches as we do our best to bear the burden of love to a bleeding screaming world. That just doesn’t work.

But I had this thought, that maybe that hymn has something figured out that all those joyful praise songs can’t quite put a finger on. There is sorrow in love. There is pain in love. It’s strange to sing about love in minor key with a sorrowful heart. But for those of you who have experienced pain, who truly know what it means to suffer. Than you can understand. There is love out there, but it is not untainted by sorrow.

You can’t say that love brings only good things. IT doesn’t. But as I listened to the words and music, I understood a reality of sorrowful love. That cries and dies with us. That sits in our spirit and understands our deepest sorrows. I can’t explain the bad. I will never call it good. I will never try to cheapen a person’s sorrow with a bandaid of “This is for a reason.” There is no reason in suffering, there is no reason in hardship. Don’t try and tell me otherwise. Instead I will partake in the sorrow, as I believe that God does. I truly can’t say that I understand God’s role in this world. The more I ask, the less I know. But I hope in love. I hope in a God that will not turn a blind eye to suffering. I don’t know why he doesn’t change it, why he doesn't intervene. I wish I could demand the answer, I wish I could find a way. But all I have this. That the pain I feel, he feels too. There has to be more to it than that. But for now, it's all I have.

The Little Girl

So I've decided to start posting in increments a short children's story I've been working on. It's silly but I hope you enjoy it. Here's the first post.


Part I


There once was a little girl who woke up one day on the wrong side of the bed. She simply stepped off her bed and found herself in a completely different place than she had ever been before.


It wasn’t accident. No not at all; that morning the little girl woke up and decided that she had never rolled out of bed on the other side before. She wasn’t sure why not, perhaps it simply had never occurred to her before. And quite frankly, she didn’t know why she shouldn’t. This being the case the little girl, quite intentionally rolled out of bed to the left.


The left side of one’s bed is a curious thing. It is a place unaccustomed to visitors, a place that holds a great deal of mystery and a good deal of questions for those who have never ventured there.


II.

As I said before the little girl found herself in a place completely unfamiliar. She looked down and found that her feet were completely covered in sand. She looked to her left. She looked to her right. On either side of her was sand. In front of her was sand. She didn’t bother to look behind as she already knew what was there.
The little girl considered her surroundings.
“I could be wrong, but I think I might have stepped into a desert. “ She conjectured aloud.

She thought some more.

“Or I do suppose I might have landed myself on an enormous sandy beach.”

“Hmmmm. Or perhaps I have stepped into a giant’s sandbox.” But that of course was a silly idea.

Having come up with these possibilities, but no real idea of where she was, the little girl decided to find out. So she stepped forward into the new land.
The little girl walked forward one foot after another and soon she began to hear the sound of crashing waves. She could see the spot in the distance where the deep blue sky blended into the line of water and far ahead, just out of reach, she could see the blurry shape of a person. She continued to walk toward the water and consequently also toward the unknown figure. When she was just a short distance away she stopped.


III.

The little girl could make out the person better from where she now stood. It was a man. He seemed young but it was hard to tell as he wore a full beard a color so bright she had to hold one hand to the sun and the other to over his hair to see anything whatsoever. The beard’s shade was a flaming orange color that matched his neatly trimmed hair. The man held a long stick that was crooked at the end much like a candy cane only it was also bright orange.

From where she stood, the little girl could not make out what he was doing. The man would stand still for a moment, then step to the left, pause, then move back, pause again, and move off to the right. He repeated this odd sort of dance over and over, all the time slowly moving forward.

What a strange man, thought the little girl with curiosity.
Just as she was considering whether or not she should move forward, the man turned. Even though he was still a good distance away, she could tell he was looking at her. He turned quickly around before she could decide whether or not to wave or call out to him. Without any real reason, the little girl felt that he must be a friendly sort of stranger so she ventured forward.

IV.

Just as the little girl was approaching the brightly clad man, he froze and without turning his head greeted her.
“Hello.”
“Hello.” The little girl replied. And waited. And waited.
Seeing that he was not going to turn to look at her, she took a step forward so that now she was standing next to him.
“Hello.” She tried again.
“Hello.” He responded again, still not turning toward her.
The little girl watched him. He seemed to be intently watching the sand in front of him.
“Excuse me,” she tried, “but are you looking for something?”
“Oh no, I’m not looking for anything,” he said shifting his staff to his other hand.
It was quiet again.
“Oh.” The little girl joined in the quiet, unsure of what to say. She watched as he continued to stare resolutely down at the ground.

“Well, what are you looking at?” she tried again.
“Turtles.” He said simply.
“Turtles?” The girl looked around. All she could see was the sand and the distant water.
“I don’t see any turtles.”
“I wouldn’t think you could.” He commented.
“Excuse me?”
“If you don’t want to see the turtles why should you think you would?” He explained.
The little girl was confused and hesitated. “I do want to see the turtles. Why wouldn’t I?”
“If you did, you would.” He replied abruptly and continued to watch the ground.
She looked down again. Still nothing. She kept watching and watching and after some time she began to notice movement in the sand in front of her. The entire patch of ground began to shake with movement. She looked up in amazement at the man, but he continued to calmly watch the ground.
Out of the sand crawled 8 tiny turtles, no bigger than a person’s hand. The little girl gasped in delight. “There are turtles!”
“Of course there are.” Said the man sounding exasperated.
“But you didn’t tell me they were underneath the sand!” She accused.
“I didn’t? Oh I suppose I forgot to mention that. They were taking their noontime nap.” He explained.
“How very strange” whispered the girl.
“No, not really. They nap at this time every day.”
“Every day?” She questioned. “Do you sit here and watch them every day?”
The man laughed. “Well of course I do. I am a turtle shepherd, am I not? What else would I do?!”

V.

Now the little girl hadn’t lived as long as the man, but she had lived enough years to know that she had never heard of such a thing.
“A turtle shepherd?” She asked. “But I’ve never heard of a turtle shepherd.”
“I suppose you wouldn’t have.” The turtle shepherd replied, “You didn’t exactly see the turtles at first either now did you?.”
“But that’s not fair,” pleaded the little girl. “The turtles were sleeping. You know I could not have seen them.”
“I suppose that’s true. But, I’ve never heard of a girl your age who has not heard of the turtle shepherders. Why every little child has heard of the great turtle herders! I suppose you haven’t even heard of the great Zaphonious…or of the epic Treaty of Fortina Zemuna and the Camel Clan!”
The little girl watched in amazement as the strange man continued to spew out names and titles she had never heard of, let alone could even dare to pronounce.
“Jphantka Pedunta, Calciphonas, Pertrapha the Great, Ralphent Vatronious!” he continued his face beginning to match his orange hair. Suddenly, he stopped. He became silent and his face turned downward, “And I suppose you have not heard of me.” It was more of a statement than a question.
The little girl was beginning to feel guilty for her lack of knowledge in the area of turtle herding. She could see that the strange man was really let down.
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t heard of you. But I’d be happy to know you now.” Offered the little girl.
The strange man turned to her and said simply, “My name is Jo.”

VI.

The little girl smiled kindly up at Jo the turtle herder. “Hello Mr. Jo. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The turtle herder sank to the ground with a sigh, buried his head in his hands, and begin to cry loudly. The little girl watched as all the turtles turned and slowly began to congregate around Jo the turtle herder as if sensing their guardian’s distress.
“Mr. Jo,” the girl asked gently, “Why are you so sad?” She placed what she hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder and carefully sat down next to him on the sand. Jo the turtle herder lifted his head. “What’s the matter? What’s the matter?! The matter is that you don’t know! Nobody knows!” He exclaimed and dejectedly dropped his head back to his knees.
“Nobody knows what?” the little girl asked carefully.
“Nobody remembers the turtle herders. I’m almost the last of my line. My little brother J will be the final turtle shepherd and then what will the turtles do? You wouldn’t know of course, but I am from the line of the great Ptanphajophethusia. He was the greatest of all the turtle herders. After him, each of his descendants took his name, subtracting one letter each time it was passed down. Now we are at the end…Jo and J.”
“What a strange tradition.” The little girl thought aloud.
Jo the turtle herder raised his head indignantly, “I don’t find it any stranger than a child your age who has not heard of the turtle shepherds.” He turned away from her and silently scooped up one of the turtles.

The little girl waited. The turtle herder sniffed loudly. The little girl was silent. The turtle herder cleared his throat.
Finally the little girl asked, “Please Mr. Jo would you tell me about turtle herding?”