An Army for Peace!

Do you also find that there are too many unhappy people in the world? Then I would like to tell you a story related to this.. In a large town, there lived a man who had a special trait. He could not bear to see people in misery. Perhaps that would not be worth mentioning, since there are many people who see themselves in this situation these days. But this man had a second trait. He had done everything he could to relieve the misery of the poorest people. He had, together with his friends and later co-fighters, helped hundreds of thousands to lead a worthy life.

The man asked himself: Why are some people so successful, when killing and destruction are concerned? Why do armies work more effectively than churches and many social organisations? And he decided to create his own army; a strict organisation with officers and soldiers, with flags and uniform. An army for peace. The war aim of this army was, so it was said, “to save at all cost the population of the slums which is threatened to go under in a sea of debauchery, alcoholism and vice”. That certainly did not please many pub landlords and pimps. The “soldiers” of the Salvation Army were attacked and often wounded; three of them were even killed. Gradually the persecution stopped. The Salvation Army remained in existence and continued to work against prostitution and pimping, homelessness, and the consequences of war, according to their Christian conviction. Their position was: “We want peace. There are enough calls for peace, but the evil in the world does not react to well-intentioned appeals. Conflict, strife, fear and desperation cannot be fought with admonitions, they demand a true fight!”

The Loud Boy

“My parents never listen to me. They don’t even notice me”, the boy sighed. “He’s forever talking. He speaks long and often. He interrupts others and doesn’t want to be interrupted”, his parents reported. “The louder I got, the less they listened”, said the boy later. “And the less they listened, the louder I got.” Then he learned to speak in a low voice, and his parents listened.

Different Ways to deal with Dogs (or Life)

Today is a snowy day. Just some minutes ago I have been shovelling snow in front of the house and in the driveway. Ma neighbour who is American did the same. His two large dogs came out and greeted me happily. They seemed enthusiastic about the weather. They greeted a mother with her child just as happily. The girl got afraid and drew near to her mother.The dogs’ owner shouted to his dogs and they instantly ran back to him. He gave them a sign to go into the house which they immediately did.

“Why do these dogs run around here? What’s this all about?” shouted the mother. “They’re already going into the house. They’re nice dogs” I said. “Anyway. They shouldn’t run free! Whose dogs are they?”

I imagine that the woman tried to care well for her daughter who was afraid and that she had the very best intentions for her child. Yet, it is possible that the girl was not afraid because of the dogs. It seems to me that she was afraid because of her mother.

The Blade of Grass in the Desert

A man travelled across a desert. All around him there was only sand, stones and rocks, the luminous blue sky, and above him the glowing hot sun. Halfway it so happened that he wanted to have a rest and he looked around for a suitable place. A little further away from the path he found an overhanging rock which could offer him shade for the duration of his rest.The man went to the spot. When he arrived, he saw something unusual. In the shade of this rock, there actually grew a blade of grass.

“Well, well, well, where do you come from?”, asked the man, and then laughed at himself: “In my loneliness, I’m already talking to the grass. It would be better if I were to investigate where the blade of grass comes from”. He pulled the little plant out of the sand and laid it carefully to the side. Then he dug deeper and deeper. Although he didn’t exactly hit a bubbling well, the earth here was truly somewhat damp. As the man continued on his way, he did not forget to place the blade of grass in the damp earth again. He built a small wall in front of it with a couple of stones to protect the plant from drying out through the hot desert wind. Then he went on his way.

On his way back he passed the spot again. Naturally he looked to see if his plant still lived. He was very happy: a proper little tuft of grass had grown out of the blade. The man dug a little deeper in the earth and pushed it in even damper earth. With a scarf, two poles and a pair of ties, which he had taken with him for the return journey, he improved the wind-protection for his plant.

Many years later, a friend of this man had to travel across the same desert. The man bade his friend: “Take a look and see what has become of my plant – whether it is still there!” The friend promised he would. When he returned from the journey he reported: “A small meadow has grown out of your blade of grass. Other travellers have discovered the spot. They have made the wall bigger and placed more poles with scarves there. Someone has dug a well there and covered it with a piece of leather. A beautiful fig tree is growing next to the well. A cricket chirps in its leaves.”