My Kind of People
She stood looking up into the dark sky accepting the kisses of the snowflakes. Her face carried the signs of almost 60 years but it also carried an expression of – what? Happiness? Excitement? Pleasure? Hope? Perhaps it was all of these and other good emotions.
“You’re enjoying this way too much!” I said.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she replied, drawing out the sentence and emphasizing the word beautiful.
I agreed that it was indeed a beautiful morning – dark skies, two inches of clean white snow and large flakes floating down in the early light.
Their tracks came from the small white plain building with the large simple banner that proclaims “There is no way to peace. Peace is the way!”.
I’ve always been curious about this society – The Society of Friends.
“Do you go to church here?”
She looked at her friend with hesitation and uncertainty. “Go ahead” the friend said. “Tell him.”
“I’m a twelve-stepper and they let us hold our meetings here.”
“I understand” was my reply. “I have several in my family.”
The truth is that I don’t have any in my family at the moment. I have had some over the years and have some who should be attending AA meetings but don’t. These details weren’t important at the moment. Giving her affirmation was.
There’s something wrong in a world of quiet snowy beauty when a person is hesitant to admit they have a problem and are conquering it.
There’s something right in a world of struggling people when a group calls itself “Friends” and shuns cathedrals and advocates peace and opens its building to early morning meetings of people in need of a chance and encouragement.
I’m going to visit this group some morning, The Friends and recovering alcoholics who stop to enjoy an early morning snow are my kind of people.
“You’re enjoying this way too much!” I said.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she replied, drawing out the sentence and emphasizing the word beautiful.
I agreed that it was indeed a beautiful morning – dark skies, two inches of clean white snow and large flakes floating down in the early light.
Their tracks came from the small white plain building with the large simple banner that proclaims “There is no way to peace. Peace is the way!”.
I’ve always been curious about this society – The Society of Friends.
“Do you go to church here?”
She looked at her friend with hesitation and uncertainty. “Go ahead” the friend said. “Tell him.”
“I’m a twelve-stepper and they let us hold our meetings here.”
“I understand” was my reply. “I have several in my family.”
The truth is that I don’t have any in my family at the moment. I have had some over the years and have some who should be attending AA meetings but don’t. These details weren’t important at the moment. Giving her affirmation was.
There’s something wrong in a world of quiet snowy beauty when a person is hesitant to admit they have a problem and are conquering it.
There’s something right in a world of struggling people when a group calls itself “Friends” and shuns cathedrals and advocates peace and opens its building to early morning meetings of people in need of a chance and encouragement.
I’m going to visit this group some morning, The Friends and recovering alcoholics who stop to enjoy an early morning snow are my kind of people.
posted by Paul at 8:43 AM
5 Comments:
"She stood looking up into the dark sky accepting the kisses of the snowflakes."
Sweet! Tastes good on my tongue.
Could you ship me a bushel or two of snowflakes?
That's a very poignant little piece. Well done!
very touching... sent me back to the days when i rode my bicycle through the historical Friends Western Yearly Meeting grounds in the small town where i first began to grow. your post sent me on an unexpected search for the organization. found it. thank you.
There is a small group (Usually 1 to 3)of Quakers that stand a peace vigil for an hour at the main intersection of our town every Wednesday night. They have been doing this since the very beginning of the war, in all kinds of weather. These are special people indeed.
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