BEHIND EVERY DOOR

While driving through a country side one day I noticed that I drove by very nice homes; with their lovely gardens, circular drive-ways and landscape impeccable.  Then just a few miles later I drove past literally shacks made out of cider blocks with old cars sitting all around the bone dry yards.  Little children ran and jumped into old tires and hooped and yelled in their joy of being alive.

It was then that I thought about that "behind every door" there is life; no matter how rich or dirt poor, there were living souls there, making their own history in their own way.

I knew what it was like to grow up on a small farm just outside of Groton, NY.  My grand parents raised me and we didn't have much, but we were happy and there was a sense of peace all around us, all the time.

When I moved with my father and some sister and brothers to a town, Moravia, NY, I moved into a middle class family where we had a lot more than we did on that old farm....but, there I still remembered that, "behind every door" life was there, living and breathing; experiencing each day as it brought joy or sorrow into each one.

I know there are a great variation in how people build their homes; far away places have mud huts, but every dwelling place has a place where people can go in and come out again.  Each person, no matter how young or how old, have a story to tell.

In far away lands north, south, east and west, there are people...untold millions of them; they each have a father and mother.  Their are many funerals where loved ones are laid to rest.  Over the centuries different peoples had different ways of burying their dead.  Some with celebrations, others with sad, sobbing relatives weeping for their deceased ones. Nevertheless, they all were once alive once, and walked through doors into their homes.  Every one of them have or had a story to tell.

If we look at the slaves which were brought to America, they soon would be lost in the world of being sold, families would be split apart and often never would meet again.  Branded if they ran away, and hunted as one would hunt for a fox or a deer.  Many people would harbor them and if caught, suffer for their crime.  Finally they were freed, but had no memory of where they were from, or who their ancestors were; their stories tell of the darker side of humanity.

Even today, around the world, young children are kidnapped and sold into sex markets.  Girls as young as eight years old are forced into selling their bodies to prevented men who delight in that kind of violence and torture.  Young men are used in the same way, they are raped by perverts who often keep them on for many years, until that young man can escape...every one of them have a vivid story to tell.

Great people often have other writers who are hired to write down the life story of the key points in that great person's life.  The books are sold and millions of dollars are made...and down through the years that are to follow, history books will contain the accounts of these great people.  These true stories are cherished and become models for others who also want to become great.

Of all the lives that have been lived, one man stands out for a very long time.  He was the son of a simple carpenter and as he grew up, he began to realize that he had a far greater calling than being a carpenter.  His cousin, named John, began to declare the greatness of this coming one; his name was Jesus, from Nazareth.  He never wrote a letter nor a book; but those who believed in him started out as a small number, but soon his popularity increased to the extent that the rulers of nations feared that this one, would be made a king...but instead they took and, and as they did to so many others back then, they crucified him.

This story of the man named Jesus would become a world-wide religion, one that offered a new idea of God was...that God was really like human beings, that God could understand even the smallest of problems, that God was not an angry God, full of wrath and hatred of sinners.  But this man, showed what God was really like; like a father, who cares for all his children...who knew their every weakness and had an open ear to their prayers.

Jesus was just a boy, then a man, he walked many miles and entered through many doorways, sat down and talked to common people....yes, there is a wonderful story to tell about him.

You are a story in the process of being made; some of you will work hard all of your life and when you die, there will be stories about you shared at your funeral.  The newspapers will give a brief overview of your life.  Those who love you will clip that story out in perhaps put it away some where for others to read many generations later.  Records will be kept of where you were born,  your medical records will be archived in dusty old boxes or on a data clip somewhere.  If needed, these can be accessed many years later.  Your story will be important in case it is needed.  You lived a life, and your life was important to many.  As we live our lives now, it's good to remember, as you walk in and out through many doors every day, you will be making a story to be remembered.

Perhaps someday after I've finished my race and achieved what I have achieved, someone will pick up this little article and read it to others, and it will remind them, that they too, will remember that behind every door, there is a story to tell.