Sometimes, the simplest story finds a place in your heart and mind. It’s like a wonderful piece of music, a sculpture you can’t stop looking at, a phrase from a centuries-old wisdom tradition.
On a recent program, NPR’s The Story, Yolette Etienne described finding her mother dead in the family’s garden after the Haitian earthquake. An Oxfam worker, she was one of the better off of Haiti’s citizens, though, I would guess, not wealthy by American standards. Nevertheless, her house had been in a neighborhood of walled-in gardens–the gardens of those who were better off than most. The earthquake brought down the walls, and then there was no longer a way to tell who had money and who didn’t.
There was ruin everywhere—but no more walls.
I don’t want to ascribe any particular meaning to the story—I have no rant to make about Romney’s millions or the awful gap between rich and poor. I don’t want to talk about God’s will for the wealthy or the impoverished, or how difficult it’s going to be for Romney to get through the eye of the New Testament needle.
It’s just that the story sheds light on wealth and walls. Spend some time with it. You may not feel better about the injustices that riddle our world, but your connection with the rest of humanity will be revitalized.