Yesterday afternoon I attended a picnic organized by our company and given to the families who work with us. It was hot, however, with a few fans moving the air around and cold drinks the pavilion was almost comfortable. We had different games for the kids but one of the favorites was the sidewalk chalk.
I noticed a little girl drawing by herself so I bent down, picked up a piece of chalk and began drawing with her. “What are you drawing?” she asked. “A heart!” “Okay, let’s do that,’ she replied and began drawing. I drew a heart with an arrow in the middle. Anyone looking at it would’ve been able to guess what I had drawn. Then I looked at hers. I couldn’t tell what it was and when I asked she said; “A heart!” and she would’ve added “Duh!” if she had known the word. “Oh!” I responded. I couldn’t see the heart but she could. She was the artist, she drew the picture in her mind and it was exactly what she wanted. It wasn’t her fault I couldn’t see it.
Wisdom tells us to admire those whose lives are not like the others; the mystics, saints, vagabonds, ragamuffins, artists. The ones who challenge our way of seeing, thinking and being. If we stay in our standard, normal worlds and never see through the eyes of those different from us we will never truly see the world and others.