There Was No Color
Boy in The Striped Pajamas
conception of life is said to begin when the woman's egg is fertilized
by the sperm or seed of the man, with today high technology it is found
that with in 10 to 14 days after the heart start to beat. There are a
lot of people you angrily differ with that statement so much that some
will to the point of coming to fist-a-cuffs. And there are others that
would agree in same like manner. Myself personal, I can truthfully say
it is true, I seen it with my last child while being only 12 day
pregnant with him. Seeing his tiny heartbeat on the monitor, so fast
and strong, and now 17 years later it still beats...and eats, and eats
and eat. Somewhere in there he sleeps, then wakes up two inches taller.
But, when I saw that, this miracle of life in the making, I thought 'WoW!, I wonder what color he'll be. This very, little beating heart with not a shape to the naked eye, but only to the Creators eye for it was He that has wonderfully made this little, and me. I thought of my three other children, having different skin tones, and hair color and all having blonde hair on the bodies and face outlines. When does color start? Does it start from that moment? Does it start just shortly after birth? or Does it start when someone of a color not like your own, calls you out of it, because of it. Because their color is light of fare and the other like my child is dark caremel smooth.
At the conception of life and at the physical death of life there is No color, just the darkness of life and the brightness of death. For one that has never seen, and to a child there is no color of man...only for the beings who have sight of eyes, they that have lost trust and innocence of childhood. The blight color of ignorance in the colors which blinds them, thus enabling them not to see colors but to see color.
After reading about the wedding night of King Solomon to his new bride, a Shulamite woman. She said to her husband, "Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me: My mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but my own vineyards have I not kept." I thought how that night might have also entailed. As she looked up into his eyes and he down into hers, as the peach silkiness of his skin, intensely yet gently pressed against the smooth mahogany of hers. They two together in body and mind intertwined, coming together as one within the rapture of each other, the world outside was no more. These two became as one, there was no color.
When I look into the small faces with bright eyes of wonder brown, excitement of blue, wisdom of hazel, knowledge of gray and the enrichment of green. I watched as they played one from each of the four corners and the central parts of the land. Atop the grassy field alive with wild flowers of lavender, soft yellow and amber, teal and pink. Each young nation joined hand in hand, dancing and singing in a circle with color and without. In their own language, but the same tongues sing out in playful harmony a young child's songs: Ring-around-the-rosy, Famer-in--the-dell, Red rover-red rover and the hokey-pokey. Never knowing that for generations before theirs, in the soil of their hlands, the color of hate, anger adn deceit forbade them to touch, let alone to speak and become as friends. There was no color.
Each time I take communion, I'm reminded of one with ebony tone skin, gave of the wine that flowed through His veins, giving life to many a color so they might be strong and have life again. For when the triplets of Dilemma, brothers disease, disorder, and sisters mental-anguish, despair. Alone with their cousins hard-times, hart-ache, and heart-breaks. Enter all nations (much like they have now) male, female, young and old alike. These destroyers treat all nations the same, the color matters not nor do they care. They cause all to feel their pangs, destorying each nations dream and goals. Our nations both near and afar, the eat foods to live, and breath the same air and walk the same as I, but not together. Except the last waalk, down the street and up the hill turning to the left or to the right, through the gates into the valley where the shadows of death and the dead live. Six feet under and three feet wide staring up at the roots of the grass with eyes shut tight.
I remember when my son was just a toddler filled with the love of everything that was old was new to him. As I spied a little curly haired, one, climb out of a with butterschtch-caramel arms extended wide. Running towards one who was kneeling down to receive and embrace him, with skin pink and fair whose hair was sandy stubble. This little one with the energy of twenty full men and the excitement of a thousand watching the winning touchdown, or being let loose in a candy store. In his very little biggest voice you could hear it, you could see itwith each letter of every word "GRAND PA! GRAND PA! GRAND PA!" There was no color..just LOVE.
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