Pieter's Misunderstanding

When your parents love you,

it is easy to be filial.

When your parents are upset with you,

being filial means you have a noble heart.

When our parents care for and are happy with us, it is easy for us to naturally return their love and to be good. It is like giggling or laughing. When others laugh, we often end up laughing along with them. And we all know what happens when someone starts giggling. Loving our parents when they love us is as natural, and as easy.

But what if they are upset over something, maybe something we did. We might get upset ourselves or we might cry. Or we might be so hurt that we do what Pieter did …

The winter had been long but spring finally arrived. Pieter could now run to greet his father at the front gate when he returned from work. Every evening, his father would swing Pieter up on his shoulders and grasp Pieter’s ankles as he held tight to his father’s neck. Together they would go to the front porch where Pieter's father would sit in his chair. Pieter would sit on his father’s lap and tell him all about his day.

But one day when his father came home, he looked very unhappy. When Pieter tugged at his hand and asked to be picked up, his father said “Go away, can’t you see I’m thinking!”

Stung by his father’s words and feeling dejected, Pieter decided he would do just that. He’d go away. After his father walked into the house, Pieter turned and ran out the front gate.

He ran as far as he could and then slowed to a walk. Soon he came to the village. He was so tired that he had to sit down on the curb. Then he realized he was also hungry and cold. And worse, he began to think about his father who must be frantic about him. Pieter felt he needed to go home so his father wouldn’t worry.

The next moment, Pieter saw a pair of shoes standing in front of him. They were not just any shoes. They were the ones the village policemen wore. A question floated down to him, “Son, are you okay? Are you waiting for someone?” Pieter looked up and saw a policeman with a kind face and nice smile.

Pieter stood up and shyly admitted that he had run away from home. The policeman scrunched down to Pieter’s level and said, “You know, when I was about your age I did the same thing. My parents had said something that hurt my feelings. It so surprised me that I found myself running away. And it was getting dark, and I was getting scared. Plus, I had no money and nowhere to go. Yup, I remember it clearly.”

Pieter said in amazement, “Wow! Just like me! Dad told me to go away.”

The policeman nodded and said, “I bet that surprised you.”

Pieter mumbled, “Yes.”

“You know, after I ran away, “I felt scared and wanted to go home. Are you, by any chance, thinking you’d like to go home?” the policeman asked with a reassuring smile.

Pieter said “Yes” again, this time with a smile the policeman asked Pieter where he lived and Pieter told him. He replied, “I know where that is. I just moved close to there with my wife and little girl. Would you like me to take you home?”

Pieter nodded enthusiastically.

The policeman swung Pieter up onto his shoulders and while holding firmly to Pieter’s ankles, told him to put his arms around his neck. Pieter did as he was told.

After about ten or so steps, he heard Pieter begin to cry. He quickly put Pieter down and scrunched down again. He asked Pieter why he was crying.

Pieter said his father carried him the same way every day when he came home from work. The policeman smiled and said, “It sounds like you have a really good daddy. After working all day, the first thing he does when he comes home is to carry you proudly on his shoulders. You know, your dad probably had a really tough day today and was just feeling bad. And I’m sure he didn’t really mean it when he told you to go away.”

Pieter agreed, “Yes! He is a really good dad. But today he did look tired and now I made things even worse for him.”

The policeman chuckled and said, “Well, that’s it then. You and your dad just had a misunderstanding.” And with that, he again swung Pieter up on his shoulders and began walking jauntily down the road where he quickly came to the lane Pieter lived on. Pieter pointed out his house and as the two approached the gate, Pieter's father came running to them.

The policeman put Pieter down. He ran to his father who scooped him up, saying “Pieter! Where have you been? I cooked dinner but then I couldn’t find you. I’ve been so worried.”

He then looked questioningly at the policeman who winked and nodded in the direction of the village. He said, “Pieter has been showing me around. My family and I just moved here.”

Pieter’s father quickly understood and said, “Ah, it’s very nice that you’ve been talking to our new policeman. But Pieter, you do know that you can talk to me anytime, right? Even when I’m tired or upset?” Pieter beamed at his father and nodded.

They thanked the policeman, who began whistling as he turned to walk back to the village. Then Pieter’s father put Pieter on his shoulders and held on to his ankles as Pieter clung to his father’s neck. Together they went in to dinner.

Chicken a la Carte

View an expanded version of this movie at cultureunplugged.com

Chicken a la Carte : Director: Ferdinand Dimadura | Genre: Drama | Produced In: 2005

Synopsis: This film is about the hunger and poverty brought about by Globalization. There are 10,000 people dying everyday due to hunger and malnutrition. This short film shows a forgotten portion of the society. The people who live on the refuse of men to survive. What is inspiring is the hope and spirituality that never left this people.

How Atifeh Helped Her Parents

When something pleases our parents and is proper,

we should try our best to provide it for them.

When something displeases them,

we should not do it.

Long ago there lived a girl who was called Atifeh, which meant “Gentle.” Her parents had named her this because as a newborn baby she was so sweet that they marveled at her good nature.

Atifeh lived with her family on a farm in a beautiful valley. As did most people in the valley, the family had some sheep. They also had a large, impressive ram who looked out for the herd and protected them from danger. Atifeh’s father cut the wool from the sheep every year for her mother to spin and make into beautiful clothing and blankets.

As Atifeh grew up, she began to help her parents around the farm. She helped clean the house and water the plants, and brought things when her parents asked for them.

She also loved to feed grass to the baby sheep in the springtime. As she played, she delighted in the butterflies and the birds and the small animals. She would sit very quietly under the big oak tree and wait for them to come to her so she could feed them crumbs from the bread her mother baked. Not having any brothers or sisters, she regarded the animals as her family and cared for them as a big sister would a younger one.

When Atifeh was about five years old, her mother told her it was time to start learning how to cook. Atifeh was very excited because she loved to eat her mother’s delicious food, but had no idea how it was prepared or even what it was!

Her mother told her to ask her father for some carrots and potatoes from the garden. Atifeh happily went to her father to ask him for the vegetables. He smiled fondly down at her and pulled out some carrots and potatoes, put them into a small basket, and handed it to Atifeh. Carefully holding the basket, she walked back to the kitchen and handed the basket up to her mother.

Then her mother asked her to get some of the herbs that grew outside the kitchen door. Atifeh went outside, picked some of the leaves, and brought these to her mother as well.

Her mother beamed at her and said since Atifeh was learning to cook, she would teach her how to make a very special dish: lamb stew. But for this they would need the special ingredient, which was lamb. She told Atifeh to go and ask her father to prepare one of the sheep.

Atifeh went dutifully to her father and told him what her mother had said. Curious, she asked, “Father, what is lamb?” Her father knelt down on the ground so he could look directly into her eyes and softly replied, “A lamb is a baby sheep.”

Atifeh froze. She couldn’t speak at first. She just looked at her father in shock. Then she very slowly shook her head and mouthed a silent “no.” She turned and ran back to the kitchen, with her father following her. His gentle daughter had never said “no” to him before.

Back in the kitchen, Atifeh was trembling and struggling to come up with just the right words. Finally, she looked at her mother and said, “Mother, when you wanted the carrots and the potatoes, I got them for you. When you wanted the herbs I brought those to you as well. But Mother, to kill a lamb is wrong. You and father have always taught me to care for animals and never to harm them. As much as I want to be a good daughter, I cannot because I will not tell father to kill a sheep.”

Then Atifeh stopped talking. She turned her eyes downward and stared at the floor. She was expecting a scolding for surely her parents would be very angry at her refusal to do what she was asked. Instead, her parents were speechless, shocked that their gentle daughter had spoken so strongly. They looked at each other and both realized what else could a girl named “Gentle” do? They thought about what she had said.

Atifeh’s mother sat down on the chair next to the table and took Atifeh in her arms. Smiling, she said, “We have always taught you to live up to your name, to care for all living beings, and to respect everything around us. Atifeh, you are right. Killing is wrong. From now on, the sheep will give us their wool, but not their lives. We will not kill any more sheep.”

That night, Atifeh went to the ram who was watching over the sheep to tell him good night. Since he was their guardian, she reported to him what had happened. She saw deep gratitude in his eyes.

For many years after that, Atifeh would go to say good night to the ram and he would look at her and offer a silent, “Good night, Atifeh. And thank you.”

Who'd Have Thought

I have been attending the weekly class on Guidelines for Being a Good Person and must admit that this morning my mind wandered to the question of the necessity of manners. I wasn't doubting. I was becoming more convinced.

People I have mentioned my latest writing project to have questioned in various ways, the reason for working on the book. An almost universal response is that yes we need behavioral guidelines because children today are so unruly.

So if the response is shared by many people, why do we have the problem? Is it just that I'm asking those in older generations? Regardless of the answer, another question arises. How did we get to this point? And why is it important?

Some would say it is the breakdown of the family. And this is what occurred to me this morning. As families are split due to divorce, separation, etc., they move into separate homes. Studies have indicated that when possible, neither adult wishes to sacrifice their standard of living so the spouse who leaves tries to move into a home of a comparable size. And yes, this only occurs when the financial situation allows.

We also have single people living in a society in which this is acceptable. I’d imagine that even as recent as the beginning of the last century, it was much more unusual for unmarried child to move out into their own home. But today it's normal so we have people living on their own and not having to follow any behavioral rules. They can do what they want when they want.

But times are changing again, to say the least. With the increasing global recession occurring at the same time as resource depletion and a rapidly-increasing population, it's becoming much more difficult for people to live on their own and do what they wish. In the news we're hearing more stories of three generations moving in together to try to hold on to the grandparent's home as their children lose theirs to foreclosure. We're also seeing people moving in together--the story of a working mother worried about her job and her young daughter moving in with a couple whose finances were also becoming strained--comes to mind.

What's my point? This began as a wandering thought, but yes I do have a point. ;-)

Our living space has been expanding. With more space and fewer people, simple good manners became less important. People spent much of their time on their own doing their own thing even when in a house with others. Families have fewer children so parents are now more indulgent of the one or two they have. (It was a lot tougher to be indulgent when you had six or eight kids.)

Now people are beginning to find themselves moving back in with their families or with extended families. The reality is, we're going to be spending more time living together. This is not just a trend; this is a change in the way future generations, beginning now, will live.

So this is the time to begin to learn how to live with larger families and with others who think as we do and who come together to live. The time to learn how to live with the brother-in-law who raised his kids very differently than the way you did. The time for older children to learn to look out after the younger ones and the younger ones to learn that the older ones may know something after all. Now is the time to start remembering what our parents used to teach us about, of all things, etiquette.

So it's beginning to look like my working on a modern children’s book based on a Confucian classic that teaches manners isn’t so bizarre after all.

I Know What I'm Doing, It's the Other Person Who Doesn't

 

It's really tough breaking those old habits.

I'm sitting in my room in one of the two nun's dormitories at the Pure Land College Association in Toowoomba. Outside my window, I can see the mist and slight drizzle that we've had since this morning. Periodically we've had some rain as well.

When the main gate is closed at lunchtime, people come and go using the walkway and gate in front of our house. My room is at the front of the house, so I look out on the walkway and the street. And as longer-term readers know, I do tend to look out the window when thinking. Or when I'm distracted from my work. ;-)

I just noticed a young woman walking out. She was carrying an umbrella, but wearing plastic slip-ons like you wear at the beach, not closed shoes. I immediately thought, "She'll get her feet wet. And in this chilly weather she could get sick."

Then it quickly occurred to me that I had worn sandals to lunch.

Oops.

Ah! But I had a good reason. I only go about eight paces until I'm under cover and remain so the rest of the way to the dining hall. So I'm perfectly justified. She's not.

Sigh.

Thank goodness, all this silliness only took a few seconds before I caught myself.

But this is what we do all the time. Find fault with what others are doing. If we happen to notice that we do the same thing, we quickly justify our own behavior. I have a good reason. Clearly the other person does not. I know what I’m doing, the other person doesn’t. I’m right, they’re wrong.

We do this all the time: observing, differentiating, criticizing, judging. Imagine how much more pleasant it would be to just clearly observe and stop there. Or at least observe clearly and think something pleasant.

As in, “Wow! Like the hot pink slip-ons!”