By the Roadside

Dear Eugene,

Last week I saw this bundle of--do you know what it is?--newspaper, on my way walking to work.

I said to myself, I sure hope it's not my son's.

My son and daughter delivered newspaper, tried one summer, not even the full summer, and they decided it's too much work for too little.  I agreed.  I am not talking about their work, but mine as a parent to get them to get to their work.  I needed to think about the rain, sunscreen, their safety on the road, even take over their work when they gave me an excuse good enough.

That was five years ago--I actually don't remember the exact year.  I went to my email just now to recollect.

Well, probably no one is going to "recollect" this bundle of paper well shaded from the outdoor elements.  The picture itself doesn't show but there is a canopy of trees above it.  So who knows, maybe it's been there for five years.  My son mentioned that summer he knew of someone who would do that, just throw away a stack or two to save some leg work especially of the uphill kind.  I hope he wasn't hiding his confession in plain sight.

They have never enjoyed it, bringing the paper to their neighbors.  En-joy, to engage in joy.  It was summer, the sun was high and hot, I get it.  Not that it would have made any difference to their en-joying if it's winter.

Last night I went for fish-and-chips with a few colleagues.  I can't remember who started the topic but soon enough we began to talk about the Bible, in particular the very beginning of it, about creation.  Much was said and one thing I talked about was my walk to work everyday, 90 minutes one way, always, under any condition.

You see, I said, I know nothing about burning calories, keep track of no number about my body and what the long walks are doing to me health-wise.  I walk because I enjoy walking.  Love it.  Gets me high.  I am playing in God's garden.  God blesses me with this body and this world and I bless him back.

A friend said, That's high level, dude.  I answered, No, not really.  It's the lowest.  Children play.  They aren't thinking about health or whatever benefit they might derive from, say, building a sand castle.

But of course they aren't considering the risks either.  Adults do.  I need to.  Today I have my full-on rain gear and needed to squeeze out 15 extra minutes to change when I arrived at the office, and that is on top of carrying more, my change of clothes, on my back, which does hurt my body, I know.  Soon enough I will need to think about sunscreen and my BO.

My "kids" are teenagers now and they've grown to consider BO, quite exclusively and exquisitely.  I wonder before the invention and availability of deodorant and sunscreen or other consumer products as such, what did teenagers do with themselves?  Were they less aware of themselves and more of sight and sound and smell beyond their own?  Were they just as self-absorbed but differently?  Were they more confounded by the less control they could exert over the Self and the rest of creation?

Did they leave by the roadside the same sort of stuffs God has entrusted them with?

Yours, Alex