Unsung Heroes

I was having a conversation with a friend recently about the little things people do every day that change the world. Their stories are seldom told because their acts are done quietly behind the scenes. My friend works at the local ski resort teaching the disabled to ski. She told me a story about one disabled Desert Storm veteran that had lost both legs in that conflict. He was learning to ski with his disability. He was trudging through the snow with his prosthetics hidden from the view of others. Nearby a mother and her little girl were making their way through the snow drifts too. The little girl was a tiny little thing struggling to make her way through the deep slush. She complained to her mother that she was having a very hard time. This veteran, this American hero, reached out to the little girl and said: "Here sweetie, I'll help you..." No one could see the struggle it was for him but my friend knew and the scene touched her heart. When I heard the story it touched mine too. I felt like the story deserved to be told.

This was a very simple thing. This man neither asked for, nor expected any recognition for helping this small child. He could have displayed his own disability in an attempt to elicit sympathy for himself. He, instead, took no thought for himself. Whether it's in the heat of battle, or in the simple act of helping a child, that's what a hero does.

I'll never know this mans name or how he lost his legs, but in this simple act I can know his heart and his heroism. Things like this happen everyday all around us. There are heroes among us whose stories go untold, their songs unsung. In their simple acts they preserve what is best in us...

Home

There is no other place on earth quite like the American West. The rugged mountains, the vast plains and the sunbleached desert all dominate here. I've always felt something deeply moving about the places where the desert meets the mountains especially. Such places make me feel small and inconsequential. At the same time they make me connected to something much bigger than me. I recently moved from my home in Texas to just such a place in New Mexico.

From the front door of my new home I can look out and see Capitan Gap in the Lincoln National Forest every morning. Something quite unexpected has come from that for me. I'm much more aware of the skies here. The changes in the weather seem more spectacular, bigger than life even. When thunderstorms move in they can often be seen coming from miles away. On several occassions I've seen them share the sky with rainbows and clear blue patches on the other end of the same mountain range.

I now have deer in the yard every day. I've seen bear, elk and mountain lions around the mountains and the African imported Oryx in the nearby desert. The edge of the desert is only miles from here and, like I said, the place where the mountains meet the desert has always been magical to me.

The local culture is made up of Mexican, Spanish, Apache, Navajo and Old Western influences mixed with modern American. A few miles to the East is the historic town of Lincoln of Billy the Kid fame and twenty miles to the South is Ruidoso, a mountain resort community, known for skiing and horse racing. The Mescalero Apache reservation is right next door where people come to gamble at the Inn of the Mountain Gods. Whenever I hear that native Americans got the worst land in the country, I think of the Mescalero reservation. It is one of the most beautiful places on earth. White men once saw it as useless because they couldn't grow crops or raise cattle on it. The modern world would, no doubt, bring a smile to the Ancestors of the Apache now making money hand over fist from white gamblers.

I now live in a town that doesn't even have a stop light. I've jokingly referred to it as New Mexico's version of Mayberry. Some great folks live here...most I've met are very friendly. Most people seem to come here to be left alone and just about everyone respects that. It is so easy to feel blessed here. It feels easier to breathe here somehow.

I often think of a line from the movie "Dances With Wolves" wherein Kevin Costners character says of the American West: "Every day here ends with a miracle." I know the truth of that now. I see miracles here everyday. I don't often use the word 'spiritual' but I have to say that there is somiething deeply spiritual about this place. When I'm away it seems to whisper to me to return. God has left His fingerprints all over this...land of enchantment.

Change Has Come

No matter what your political views are, we have all just witnessed an historic event. An American of partial African descent has been elected the next president of the United States. In a mere half a century since the great civil rights movement began, a man who would have once been denied an education, denied the right to eat or drink in the same places a white American and denied the right to vote has come to hold the most powerful office on earth. America has struggled to live up to it's creed for over two centuries. In our sacred documents it is declared that "All" men are created with equal rights under the law. At first that meant only white, land-owning men. Slowly, over the decades, it came to include all citizens.

What this has meant to most Americans is that we are struggling to live up to our creed. We, as a nation, voted for a man because we didn't care what color his skin is. Most of us didn't care that is... That isn't true of black Americans. Most black Americans voted for this man only because of the color of his skin.

Now, I am inspired by the words of the great civil rights leader Dr. Martin Luther King that one day a man would be judged, not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his heart. Most white Americans did just that. Black Americans, however, didn't live up to the creed that they, as a community, claim to believe in.

It is my hope that black Americans will begin to lay aside their anger and their own racism and live up to the creed that Dr. King so beautifully enunciated. It's time we begin to heal from our past national sins.

I didn't vote for Barak Obama. But he will be our president the day he is sworn into office on January 20, 2009. As an American I will accept him as my president because I've chosen to take part in our democracy and I accept the will of the majority of the people. I hope that those who voted for another candidate will do likewise. I will watch my president closely and I will voice my opinions when I agree, and when I disagree, with his leadership. That too is a part of being an American. We can all use this opportunity to live up to another of our mottoes: E Pluribus Unum... Out of many...one.

Child of God

I used to think that carnival sideshows were cruel. I believed they exploited those unfortunate people born with genetic and other defects. My views have tempered over the years. I now think there is some legitimacy in being made aware of those on the edges of the human condition. They have their stories to tell and those stories deserve to be heard.

I recently saw a show on the Discovery channel that focused on a young girl in Haiti. She was the victim of a horrible tumor that had so disfigured her face she no longer even appeared human. The program was about how a team of doctors set about to help this child. She had to undergo a series of operations to regain some semblance of a human being. After the first operation she looked into a mirror to see the results of what the doctors had done. She hadn't looked into one in over two years. I watched as a single tear streamed down her face. I was so touched by that moment that I thought about it for days.

I'm like most people, I am attracted to beautiful people. Like most men, I like to look at beautiful women. Some call that shallow...I don't know...it seems to me to be written into the genetic code somehow. What I know is that seeing this child made me want to turn away. At the same time my heart went out to her and I was again reminded of the words of John Donne: "Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." You could just as easily substitute the words illness or disfigurement for death in that Donne quote. It was not her death but her condition that I felt connected to... We are all connected even though most of us turn away from those so afflicted.

None of us are free until all of us are free. None of us will be completely healthy until all of us are. My faith teaches me that we, human beings, are all a part of one family. This child of God, so horribly disfigured, is connected to me and I to her. My heart went out to her and I felt some small twinge of the pain that she has endured. My heart understands a part of what she has gone through because we are connected.

Perhaps only the strongest among us are called on to bear such burdens. Perhaps the very reason they are sick and broken is to teach the rest of us. Thinking thus keeps me from blaming God for such things. Sometimes things just happen. My faith helps me to understand that one day she, and all the sick and broken human beings...all the children of God...will be healed and made whole. That's what helps me to go on. Twenty-five million years from now their afflictions won't matter...what will matter is what we learned from them and how we responded to them. My faith helps me to understand that when I encounter the sick and the broken, those with afflictions I can see...and those with afflictions I can't see... I need to reach out to them as I would my own family...because they are my family.

But for the Grace of God...there go I.