The Green caldron - University Library

2 The Green Caldron
"I think I feel like a windshield wiper."
"I feel more like a raindrop."
"Are you a happy raindrop?"
"Raindrops aren't happy ; they're frustrated. They scurry around so hard,
trying to run sideways and make the grand design."
"Why are they so frustrated?"
"Most people don't like them. And no matter how grand their design or
how beautiful their trail, they wind up in the same place."
"Where? The river or the ocean?"
"No. Just a little mud puddle that will dry up—evaporate—and leave no
mark."
"It seems kind of hopeless."
"Doesn't everything ?"
"You ask too many questions that I can't answer."
"What do you want me to ask? Algebra problems?"
"At least I could give you the right answers."
"Right answers, wrong answers—they're all the same."
"You don't believe that."
"What do I believe? What am I looking for?"
You are looking for happiness ; you want to have fun. But you blow
every chance you get, sooner or later, by asking too much. You don't have
to accept everything, but you don't have to understand everything either.
You have seen a group of students relaxing at night in a circle around a
bonfire after spending a long day trying to find themselves through helping
and understanding others. Do you need to know why? The flames burn,
giving off a fiery light, but it is not as bright and clear (you hesitate to say
radiant) as the glow on their faces as they sing together. Does it matter
what they sing—school song, love song, folk song, drinking song, obscene
song? Blues, hymns, jazz, spirituals, or what have you? The words don't
matter ; the tunes don't mean anything. It's just the feeling of sharing, of
communicating. And this feeling, without any reason or deeper meaning,
can make you believe that He really does have "The Whole World in His
Hands," and that He is trying to make something of it, or is letting us try.
And here you are, still sitting on the weathered rock. You have a hand-
ful of pebbles in your fist. What are you going to do with them? Sit here
and watch them slip through your fingers? Sure. It's easy to be cynical.
You can stand back and condemn God because you don't think His universe
is perfect. Throwing rocks isn't hard ; holding onto them is. Now it's your
turn to play God. You want a perfect world, but you can't even build a
perfect dream castle. You lost a couple of the pebbles, or you can't get to
them. What do you do with those that are still in your hand? Do you
throw them away, or do you hang on and try to make something out of
what you have left?