“There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children.” ~ Nelson Mandela.

I was (still am) the youngest child in my family.  This was a source of much anguish for me, for many reasons.  Only the youngest can know what it feels like to be the one with the least knowledge of past events (I frequently wailed: ‘Was I born?’ when old stories were rehashed); the one who was always told ‘you can’t’, the one who didn’t even know that Father Christmas (Santa Claus) wasn’t real (thanks, Andrew!).  But what I missed most of all was having a younger brother or sister.

Fortunately, after moving to Jamaica, I soon acquired a friend who had not one but several younger siblings, one of whom was (my favorite) a baby!  And so I was frequently at her house, helping to hold, feed, play with the baby.  I was once told a story (of which I have no recollection), that shortly after my family’s arrival in Jamaica there was a christening ceremony at church.  It seems I was moved to join the families and insist on holding one of the babies being presented! 

An earlier memory is of going with my father (the minister) on his rounds to see various church members (this was in England), and visiting a Jamaican family who had not long migrated to the UK.  They had a bouncing baby daughter who I happily held on my lap.  She promptly grabbed my face by the cheeks and bit my nose! Fortunately, her gums did not draw blood, and we both survived the encounter!

Even after I had my own children, I still had a tender spot for the pre-schoolers.  I remember one of my older children, on watching my interaction with a younger child, complain that ‘you only like the little kids!’ 

There is something fascinating about observing babies, toddlers, young children, explore and discover the world around them.  I often think of the development of man, of how the human race experimented with commonly available objects to create tools, and over the millennia we have evolved to be the highly technological society that we are living in today.  Children of this century seem to be born with gadgets in their hands, able to find their favorite YouTube videos, or games, and even placing orders on Amazon! 

With the advancements of our current times, with all of the worrying abilities of artificial intelligence, we have to remind ourselves that we are human, and should have humanity.  In recent weeks the power of an image focused a nation on the current administration’s treatment of children.  This is not new.  We were similarly transfixed, horrified, appalled when, in a prior administration, children who entered the country with their parents but without the proper documentation, were separated from their parents and housed in what can only be called cages.  Last month it was the sight of a five-year-old boy, with his bunny-rabbit hat and spider-man backpack that transfixed the nation. 

Meanwhile how many other children, who may have been wearing similarly cute hats, have been or are still detained?  What damage is being done to young psyches?  Why is it that the nation isn’t rising up in protest against all of the other children who are being harmed in this way?  What if Liam had not been wearing a cute hat?  What is it that triggers our empathy?

For years (decades, centuries) people of color have been mistreated in this country.  The stories of the systematic mistreatment of Native American children are heartrending.  In both the USA and Canada, children were taken from their parents, placed in boarding schools, stripped of their culture and their language, and abused and beaten.  Investigations have revealed that significant emotional, physical and sexual abuse took place, and many children died as a result.

You have only to watch an episode of the PBS show ‘Finding your Roots’ where the guest is of African descent to see another era of child cruelty.  Children (babies) as young as two months old could be bought and sold for their future potential.  Four-year-olds would be possessions, sent to work in the fields with their parents.  Rather than making up games and discovering the world, they would be carrying water or picking cotton.  And forget cute bunny-hats.

It is uncomfortable to realize that, despite being a ‘civilized society’, we are still capable of visiting cruelty upon innocent children.  We see heavily armed, masked men manhandling people, throwing them to the ground, standing on their backs, shackling them like animals, for the crime of being undocumented (and in some cases well publicized, for no crime at all, since they are picking up and detaining citizens as well).  We read reports of children who are scared to go to school, since these armed men hang around schools, waiting to grab parents as they do the school drop off or pick up.  How will these children heal?

One of the counterparts to the scenes of cruelty has been the ongoing ‘Walk for Peace’ by a small group of Buddhist monks.  They have been walking from Texas to Washington D.C., for the sole reason of raising awareness, to promote peace, compassion and non-violence.  While elsewhere noisy non-violent protestors are being greeted with tear-gas, pepper-spray and bullets, these saffron clad monks are braving the severe weather, and quietly, contemplatively walking.  Crowds gather to greet them, to give them flowers, or just watch.  Many report feeling a sense of peace, of calm, just watching their steady progress.   In a world full of chaos and confusion, these monks (who live by alms alone) are demonstrating that it is possible to have few possessions, to need little, but to walk in peace and for peace.  I don’t know if they were expecting the crowds of people who show up, who line the streets, who treat them like celebrities, but it is a beautiful sight to behold.  In Richmond, Virginia recently, it was estimated that 10,000 people turned out! And as I saw a photo of a baby reaching out to one of the monks, I could hear that old children’s hymn ringing in my memory: ‘Suffer the little children to come unto me!’

It is one thing to see children as cute, to be delighted in their growing vocabulary, their inventiveness, their imagination.  It is another to see how they are shaped by their environment and the examples that we show them.  A whole generation is seeing the way that the U.S. government is behaving, and will grow up with memories of fear, of intimidation, of brutality.  It is up to us to demand better of our leaders, to contact our representatives, to call out the cruelty.  Otherwise we are just as guilty.

This Friday morning, as South Florida bundles up for another cold front, I give thanks to all those who put their lives on the line for their beliefs.  I applaud the Buddhist monks for showing us that a few people can draw attention to a big problem, and make a nation pay attention.  I thank those who are willing to face tear gas and bullets to show solidarity with their neighbors.  And I hope for a day when this nation can truly live up to its promise.  Although there is a long way to walk before we get there.

Have a wonderful weekend, Family!

One Love!

Namaste.