Sunday Morning XXIV

I listened carefully to what the young fella had to say for himself. Some of what he said had merit; some did not.

I looked at his age, his background, his earnestness, and decided what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him much. He'd grow into a full realization of life as he stepped forward to meet its challenges.

We were doing fine with each other until this young pipsqueek started telling me how I oughta believe the same things he did in exactly the same way as him. Of course, he thinks he has the authority of his church standing squarely behind him.

A squawking chicken running around tossing its feathers in the air would have made more impact upon me than this youngster who has barely managed to crawl out of his crib and shed his nappies.

He hasn't lived long enough to get a handle on much, yet here he is at my door, and with the ignorance of youth, telling strangers just how to go about living their lives.

When he's old enough to have it right, he'll have the ability to know: if he has faith in those who have faith and faith in those who have no faith, then he, himself, has earned the quality of faith.

It's only when you go around buggywhipping the faith of others that you realize you have no faith at all.
Chae