Story for you from a Quaker retired in Mexico:


     Living in Mexico                

     When we arrived at “our farm.” three Adventist children that we know well came over, as they always do, to watch us. We are strange people from the outside world. So I brought out drums and rhythm devices and, with my harmonica, we began to make music. Pablo, young, about 4th grade, heard us and came over to join in. Now he likes marching bands, so he motioned for us to hit the Adventist compound even though he is from a fundamentalist Protestant family nearby. Within a stone's throw of our house here there are three separate worlds: Adventists who have a neat little church nearby and who meet on Saturday, the protestants who meet in homes and sing beautifully about the coming of the end of the world, and the college educated nearby who read lots of books.

     First, our band attacked the Adventist's compound (6 or so houses sort of facing each other, and sort of fenced in). They heard us coming and knew what to expect because we have done this before. They laughed and laughed, especially when we interrupted the beat of the music to tap (in time) each adult and musician on the head (lightly). When I began to tap the musicians, the littlest ones looked scared: Will he tap me......... or am I too unimportant?” I got every one.

      Suddenly having exhausted the Adventists, Pablo signals that we are to attack the Protestants (his own group). Surprise: when we got near, the Protestant children ran and hid! The music was too strange, too loud. One young, beautiful mother met us smiling. She encouraged the small children to come out from under the covers and from under the beds. They did...very slowly. The Adventists children, I am proud to say, activated their Christian teachings and encouraged the hiding children to pick up bottles and beat them with spoons and to join in. Very slowly they did. Pablo guides us through their stairwells, second floors, rabbit warrens of rooms... women were preparing corn and cooking but had time to bend over laughing,.   Again we tapped each on the head a little to the beat of the music. I had never seen inside their homes...very, very simple....simple stone construction looking as though it could be built in a day or two, no plumbing, electricity came from extension cords from other houses, unmade beds, cooking containers, sink and a TV (on). Men all gone ...all trying to make a living somewhere.

      We were now a formidable army so I suggested with motions that we blitzkrieg the stuffy educated people because I saw from a distance that some were home

 and because when I motioned in their direction Pablo nodded a yes (love that kid). Down the dirt road we went Hannibal marching toward Rome without elephants. We approached big cars, college degrees, maids, gardeners, and big TVs. They saw us coming and looked disturbed, but smiling.

       Remember the pretty mother? She came with us. Without pausing I gave her some long locust bean pods from the side of the road that rattle. She shook them to the music. They were not dry enough and did not make much sound but she was game and continued.

      The educated people were great too. They began to dance and laugh. I danced with the mother but kept the harmonica going. Her daughter (who is a biology PHD candidate at the university) ran into the house and brought out her little boy who was carrying a toy guitar.   First he tried to run away, but then suddenly looked very serious and he joined in!   We marched in a circle and he, looking very, very serious, marched with us around and around. Then Pablo declared the whole neighbor a free fire zone. The educated came with us, pretty mother shaking her seed pods, and we hit every house with a car parked in front. I think many of this group, though they had lived side by side for years, had never seen each other up close.

     Finally we went back to our front porch. The grown-ups looked tired. But the kids, the kids said the same thing all kids have said since the beginning of time. The same thing Adam and Eve's kids said after that afternoon of, of, of, riding with the adults on the ah, ah........dinosaurs all over Eden: “When can we do this again?”

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Comment by Howard Brod on 9th mo. 27, 2016 at 7:37pm

A lovely story about just 'being' in the moment.  Thank you!

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