The following is one report of today’s activities on Planet Earth. We have a general idea of the location as Spokane County. This is a Fig Newton of the Imagination, and does not purport to be an official 23:59 report from the United States of America.
It is impossible to fail when we imagine the possibilities to solve every problem. Our results may fail every so often, but when we collaborate to improve our methods then we will eliminate failure and deliver best results.
Here is what was downloaded from the Collective Consciousness. We hope you enjoy this story. Here it goes.
The Caregiver walked home from work through the parking lot, taking great care to keep off the grass. She noticed the Veteran waving people through the drive-through with his intense smile, wild gestures, and unique sense of style. She loved this Veteran from a safe social distance.
He rather looked like the 1970s version of Walt Disney’s Goofy with his long salt and pepper pigtails, shock pink Army camoflauge fatigues he improvised from a kind Lady’s donation. His intense yoga poses seemed terrifying to lookers on, but they failed to see the terror in his mind. His isometrics and poses made his frame sturdy, sinewy, and strong. They helped his mind from crashing completely. People thought him to be crazy for doing this in public, but the Caregiver thought America was crazy not to take a fitness tip from a Veteran. He was certainly half the size of most people waiting in their cars to order their meals. What they did not know was also his testimony, which he downloaded to her every time they met.
Perhaps he was waving people through the McDonald’s drive-through because he was hungry. Perhaps he was waving people through to show him how living off what was supplied to you rather than what you demanded was the better way. Perhaps he was simply enjoying the spiritual connection of people in an America that valued inanimate property more than people. People were his favorite Pets, and he meant no harm. He and the Caregiver were just alike this way. They meant no harm to cats and dogs, but people were the better company. After all, they were people too. Few people seemed to realize that these days. This is what all people on the margins have in common in a nation where margins are only known to be monetary in form and function. Breathing these imagination exercises downward toward the green grass, the Caregiver adjusted her parasol to block the brilliant, beautiful sunshine that pierced her like a bolt of lightning had years before.
Bubba’s huge Pirate hat was both elegant and scary looking, but it didn’t scare the Caregiver. She knew the main purpose of this hat was to shield his blistered brain from the effects of bright sunlight. Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy (CTE) was another bond they shared, which also made them refugees to their Puerto Rican and Florida homelands. They needed to be the human sunshine to attract the clouds God gave them to protect their hurting minds. Repeated blows to the head, witnessing trauma, and experiencing it will eventually separate a human mind from the general population. This is why we need specific ideas to treat and prevent CTE. Few understood the simplicity of brain health, and it seemed few cared. It was well. It was just another day in America for two people who chose to live in a better world, like Bubba and Alegría. The only way to live in a better world was make the best of what you had, and strive to become a better version of yourself every day. This was the Mamba Mentality Kobe Bryant left the world before his life was claimed too soon earlier this year.
She left him one of her spare meal cubes on the freshly cut green grass, and signaled him to come eat. Brown rice, steamed vegetables, tofu, and secret sauce made the magic. It was her last cube, and her stomach was rumbling. It was okay. She had finally taken the time to learn Apple Pay on her iPhone and someone had been kind enough to donate to her today. She never solicited donations, since it always felt like prostitution to her. America’s Veterans are not a mink stole slung over her shoulders to attract Johns down on the boulevard. God always provided to those who gleaned in His fields. She had learned a long time ago to consider the lilies of the field more than the material gifts of man.
“Thank you, Alegría!” He blew her kisses and they made a warm sunshine socially distanced bear hug, as had been their tradition for years now. He always remembered exactly how she loved to be called, since his life started in Puerto Rico like hers. He didn’t care that her Spanish wasn’t perfect. He knew her desire to connect was pure. He pronounced her appellation beautifully and with gusto. She remembered exactly how he liked to be called too. Bubba. He assumed the nickname of his Alabama war buddy who was killed in Desert Storm decades ago. In his mind, it was just yesterday. Alegría understood this, and counted it all joy. She and Bubba served the same Master, and it was not the Department of Defense.
He wore Bubba’s 30 year old red bandana over his nose and mouth, making him look a bit adorable and dangerous. It was the same red bandana Bubba had constantly kept in his back pocket just in case, as any thinking Alabama country boy does. No matter if wearing Wranglers on liberty or combat fatigues, Bubba always kept a clean red bandana. It was the same red bandana the Veteran used to try to save Bubba’s life three decades ago. The Veteran never took it off, and washed it daily in Salvation Army’s utility sink.
It didn’t matter that she was freckled and fair and he was smooth and dark. In their conversations, they were just people living on Planet Earth who had Puerto Rican roots in common. In one of their many conversations made from a safe social distance in public places, the Veteran jumped for joy when she thanked him for his service. Most people did not understand that his Puerto Rican flag tattoo next to his Military ensign was a special symbol. Most people just thought of him as a dirty, homeless, crazy weirdo. The Caregiver knew he was a Veteran from reading his true colors, confirmed by his tattoo. The Caregiver did not need the bureaucracy necessary to most people to ask for a DD214, but it was a good idea before offering services. She could read their true colors. Clients came to her and she went to them. Free agency is the greatest employer on Planet Earth, and the Caregiver trusted God in all things to make her paths straight.
Puerto Rico, one of six United States territories, is not legally eligible to vote in national elections, but is subject to Selective Service. Like his father before him whose life was spent in Vietnam, this Hero did not wait for the draft. He answered God’s call and volunteered for service before Desert Storm. His mind was spent somewhere between street fights to protect his Mother and siblings as the eldest whose father had been killed in action and ten years of his own Army service. The Caregiver was always the scientist, and never the judge. Did people really make choices on their own when all stimuli labeled all bad behavior as adult? Did free agency have a chance in a nation where wrong choices were constantly offered for less money than good choices? Was it nature or nurture that claimed his mind? It was both.
She remembered well when beautiful Church bells rang in Puerto Rico from Old San Juan. She wondered if the bells would ever ring again on the mainland. It seemed that the cacophony of instant gratification had engulfed the beauty of delayed gratification. Sounds of blue ocean, birds chirping, and Church bells ringing in Old San Juan where most people walked were much nicer than the loud whoosh of traffic and bright lights on the mainland.
McDonald’s was a beautiful brand. The golden arches seemed to embrace her as she stood in silent communication with her Hero at a safe social distance. He perceived her loving smile from beneath her mask, returned his, and she walked in to order a salad.
This has been an unofficial 23:59 report from Planet Earth. Imagine the possibilities when we connect through compassion and mutual guarantee.
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