From MLK to Today

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Comment by eileen fleming on January 27, 2009 at 10:57am

ops!

THE REST:

WAWA Blog January 19, 2009:

http://www.wearewideawake.org/index.php?option=com_content&task...

Comment by eileen fleming on January 27, 2009 at 10:55am

In Honor of King and with Hope for Change
On the evening of April 4, 1968, while standing on the balcony of his motel room in Memphis, Tennessee, where he was to lead a protest march in sympathy with striking garbage workers of that city, Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated.



In KEEP HOPE ALIVE, I began with Chapter One:

THE MORNING AFTER APRIL 4, 1968

"Peace for Israel means security, and we stand with all our might to protect its right to exist, its territorial integrity. I see Israel as one of the great outposts of democracy in the world, and a marvelous example of what can be done, how desert land can be transformed into an oasis of brotherhood and democracy. Peace for Israel means security and that security must be a reality."-Martin Luther King



Mary woke at dawn and re-entered the living room for the first time since she had said goodnight the night before. She was not surprised to see Khaled sprawled out in his recliner or Riad at peace on the sofa. But she was dismayed to see Art curled in fetal position on the black and white checkered tile at the front door.

She gently stepped over him into the red and white kitchen as the morning sun broke through the garden window. The sun illuminated the cherry-blonde slab stump of an ancient olive tree that had been hewn into a kitchen table and received as a wedding gift from family and friends, who lived in Khaled’s hometown, the village of Majd Al Krum, in Upper Galilee. Even on the most frigid morning, Mary felt warmed by the high-gloss patina of the tabletop, but held more dear the signatures and marks from the entire town etched underneath.

Mary silently performed the morning ritual of brewing the first of many pots of Turkish coffee for the day, gratefully inhaled the piquant aroma, and then quickly exited up the back staircase to the bedrooms to wake her daughter for school. When Mary returned to her kitchen after escorting Ahmeena to her third grade classroom, she was not surprised to find Khaled and Riad at the table, downing a second pot of the Turkish brew.

“Please, Mary, don’t say a word. I drank too much, and now I am paying the price.”

“Khaled, the pain in your face brings me to tears; you are clearly suffering. I will not add to your misery. But you, Riad--you look buoyant. What’s your secret?”


Riad chuckled. “Tolerance.”

Mary marveled at how his gleaming pate radiated the sun’s rejection through the garden window that showcased a pendulous purple wisteria and bird bath, where blue jays had immediately gathered to eat the seed she had just put out.

At that moment, Art stumbled into the room, banging his shoulder against the wall and hip into the butcher-block counter. “Oiy! Sylvia is going to fry me! I thought I’d be back at her sister’s by noon, but that bad news about Martin Luther King, Jr., hit us all like a left to the liver! I thought last night would be only good reminiscing, but reality intruded. Hmm, Thanks, Mary, I need this brew.” He nodded and gratefully downed the pungent coffee that Mary had just set before him.

“So, who wants breakfast?”

“Just toast, Mary, my love,” Khaled whimpered weakly.

“Same for me.” Riad beamed, and Mary thought how grateful she was to know him.

Art whispered, “Have you any Mylanta, Mary?”


Mary suppressed a smile as she turned to retrieve it, when the unmistakable seven knock's of Ahmad was heard at the front door.

“Namaste!” Ahmad bellowed as he opened the red door, reminding Mary of a Cheshire cat without any guile at all.

Riad replied, with a beatific smile, “The God in me salutes the God in you, too.”

“Art, Khaled, look what I found in the gutter.” Ahmad nudged a redheaded muscular youth forward as hard as he could.

“Why, Jack Hunt, I haven’t seen you in weeks; come in, dear.” Mary was always happy to see any of the eleven Hunt children who lived next door.

Khaled stood to welcome his neighbor and asked, “Jack, why aren’t you in class this morning?”

“Well, I didn’t know until I showed up

Comment by Popxart on January 22, 2009 at 10:11pm

Beautiful :)
To the people of poor nations, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world's resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.
:)