A Short Walk
"Judge not, that you be not judged." (Matt
7:1-2 NKJV)
When I was a boy my family and I lived in my Grandma’s old house by the
woods. Along one side of it ran a river that separated us from the main
road. The only way over the water was across an old, wooden, swinging
bridge. Along the other side of it ran a set of railroad tracks. My Dad had
taught me early on to always listen for the sound of the coming trains and
to get off the tracks fast when I did. They only ran by the house a few
times a day, however, so the rest of the time I could walk along the quiet,
deserted tracks as much as I wanted.
I was surprised one day then to find another person walking down the tracks
as well. He was a tall man dressed in orange coveralls. He had a bright
smile and acheerful way about him. I ran right over and started talking to
him. I don’t remember what we talked about but I will never forget how nice
he was and how happy he seemed to talk to a boy only 5 years old. Our
meeting lasted only a few minutes before I headed back to my home and he
continued on his way. About an hour later I was startled to see two state
policemen come running across the swinging bridge to our house. Their
serious expressions, uniforms, and guns scared me far more than the gentle
traveler had. He was the one they were after, though. It appeared my short
walk had been with an escaped prisoner. It was hard to believe because he
had been so kind.
Somewhere along the rest of my walk down life’s tracks I lost that childhood
wisdom. I learned to judge people by the prison clothes they wore and not by
the smiles on their faces. I learned to stereotype and to hate and it has
taken me a long time to unlearn it again and find my way back to love. I
still haven’t quite made it back to that boy’s goodness and trust but I am
working on it. I heard that the police later recaptured the kindhearted
prisoner and fellow Child of God who brightened my day back then. Where ever
he is today, I wish him only love and joy.
Joseph J. Mazzella
Joe Mazzella is a writer and mental Health worker who lives in the mountains of West Virginia with his 3 children, 6 dogs, and 4 cats. He appreciates hearing from his readers: joecool@wirefire.com