The Age Of Disbelief

One day, through the Master Gardener network, a request came from the mother of a second-grader.  Her child wanted to interview a Master Gardener for a school project.  It turns out the school has an annual Peacemaker Fair.  Every student is to find someone who they think engaged in peacemaking activities.  The child, then, interviews that person and makes a presentation on the day of the fair.

I always believe in the saying "It takes a village to raise a child".  I thought I would be a villager for this kid.  Several Master Gardeners responded, but I was the one chosen.  As the mother, Daphne, later explained to me, they picked me, partly, it was because my motivations of being a gardener coincides with her daughter's thinking of why a gardener is a peacemaker.  Partly, it is also because I live the closest to them.  Convenience is everything for a working mom with two children.

On a drippy day, Daphne and Sophie paid a visit to my house.  They even brought me a homemade pound cake, fresh strawberries and whipped cream!  Happily, I also baked a batch of cranberry almond scones that Sophie likes.  We sat down at the kitchen table to talk.  Sophie was a little shy and restless at first, but she soon settled down and started asking me questions she had prepared ahead of time.  Mom was acting as her secretary to help jot notes of our conversation.

"Will you come see me at the Fair?  You are invited," said Sophie.  "Am I invited, really?  If so, I definitely will come.  Make sure you send me the address and time.  I promise I will be there, " I assured my new little friend.  Sophie made me make a pinky promise.  We went around to take pictures of the garden and my messy gardening stuff.  Amidst so many things, I forgot to give Sophie her favorite scones.

Fast forward several weeks.  I received an email invitation from Daphne.  I told her I would attend the fair.  With me, I decided to bring a batch of sesame seed tahini cookies for Sophie to make up for the scones that I failed to give her.  

It was a small mennonite school with a small class size.  At the fair, there were almost more visitors than students.  Visitors were encouraged to walk up to any student at their table to ask them about their project.  These little scholars would tell you seriously why they chose to feature the person in their presentation and tell you everything about what that person does to contribute to world peace.  Sophie put up a nice display with construction paper and photos she took at my place.  I was very flattered to be featured among well known people like Senator Cory Booker and a few other people who have done much more significant deeds. 

Amidst the crowd, I saw Daphne.  She was surprised to see me, "I can't believe you are actually here.  I did not expect you to come."  "I said I would.  I promised Sophie.  I gotta keep my words," as I handed to her the box of cookies I made.  "Here is a list of ingredients, just in case there are concerns of allergies." We went our separate ways and continued to tour around.

After forty five minutes of excitement, visitors had to leave so that the children could resume classes.  On my way to the parking lot, I ran into Daphne again.  "So, how do you like the cookies?  I cut back on the sugar.  I hope they are not too bland for your taste," I said.  Daphne stopped in her tracks and threw her hands over her head.  "You made those cookies?  You mean you actually made those cookies yourself for Sophie?"  "Yeah.  Why?  What's the matter?  I think it would be a nice treat for a special occasion."  

It was as if Daphne was scrambling for words, "You know, I thought they were store-bought!  They just looked too perfect to be home made.  You know, I really didn't expect it.  I . . . I . . . um . . . I didn't try the cookies.  I am sorry.  I just handed them to the teachers and told them to give them away."

I smiled and told Daphne it was okay.  "Hopefully someone was going to eat them.  I hope they enjoy the cookies."  "No, no, no.  Argh!"  Daphne mumbled in agony.  "You don't understand . . .  Now I am really kicking myself . . ."  I really do not know what else to say to Daphne.  We both needed to get going anyways.  I gave her a hug and went to my car.

Do I not understand?  I think I do.  I did what I did because I think that is what a villager does.  People want the best for their children.  They want the world to be kind to their children so that the kids grow up happily, healthily and have a bright future.  I understand all of that.  

What I do not understand, though, is that, when it happens, people do not believe it.  They do not believe strangers would actually do nice things for other strangers.  They do not believe good things can happen.  They are skeptical about everything.  Could this simply be a projection of themselves?  Or has our world really become so dangerous and nasty without me noticing?  I hope not.  This kind of mistrust, however, is what challenges the future of our children the most.

I want the kids to have a bright future, too.  I really do.  This makes me very sad.

Courtesy: Poster Art House