“You’ll Get Use To It.”

Unintended heirlooms

The blindfold of hatred, the gag of ignorance…. are these the inheritances we anticipate leaving as testimonials of our celebrated existence as the greatest nation known to mankind?

How can a father give more than he has to his son? How can a mother instill in her daughter more than she possesses? If a father refuses to ever look towards the horizon, how can he be expected to convey to his children the respect due the beauty of a sunset? If a mother refuses to ever look towards another woman’s child, how can she be expected to convey to her children the respect due to peace over war?

If we refuse to lift ourselves up beyond our petty self-indulgences, why should we ever care to see the urgency in the needs of others. If we, by being silent, believe lies to be irrelevant, when do we then use our voices-- in crabby, verbose protestations against the interruptions occasioned by running unavoidably head-on into inconvenient truths?

Shall our eardrums ring with the droning of our own lethargic voices as we tamp down the spirits of our youth with soothing, surrendering words demanding compliance in place of courage:

              “You’ll get use to it.”

In demanding better of ourselves, what better can we leave as legacy to our children?