The Highway.com
Commentaries of a 21st Century Heretic
The Rubik’s Cube, a simple toy, the puzzle that was the bane of my existence as a teenager, was always a lesson in life for my wife. She often told me that, solving any problem is like working the cube. “All it takes is the ability to turn the cube in your head, look at it from all six sides.” On a hot July afternoon in the local Post Office I discovered exactly what she meant.
Turning the Cube
(August, 2002)
Nearly 5:00PM on the third of July, the lines were long, everybody rushing to get their packages out before the holiday shut down. We were no different. As much as we dreaded standing there, a million and one better things to do with our time, we knew it had to be done now, if we wanted our package to arrive before Monday. Like everyone else, we hurried inside the Post Office and impatiently waited. Never once did we notice the cars running outside in the fire lane. Never once did we notice the unattended children inside one of the cars. Somebody else did.
A young black man entered the Post Office. He had seen the owner of the car, a man standing two people ahead of us, rush to get in while his children waited. Out of concern for the children‘s welfare on a hot summer day, he had decided to do something about it. He approached the man in line unobtrusively.
“Excuse me sir,” he began, “I mean you no disrespect, but it is hot out there, and your kids are still in the car. Are you sure they are going to be ok?”
Slightly embarrassed, the man in line smiled and reassured him the children would be fine. The air conditioning was on, and they would not be left for long. After briefly restating his concern, the young man left, the man still in line, the kids still in the car, those of us privy to the exchange purposely silent. Suddenly realizing that their conversation had been heard by us, the man decided to save face in a way that has become typical in our society.
“Who does that guy think he is?”
The sarcasm was evident in his tone, suggesting that the young man was rude and arrogant. To avoid the potential of being looked at as a neglectful parent, the man in line questioned the character of his potential accuser. As with the prior exchange, we remained silent, except for my wife, who in her typical fashion had turned the cube.
“You know, I think it was really nice of that guy to be concerned about your kids,” she began, “especially how quickly a child can die in a closed car in the heat? If it were me, I would rather have the guy say something than come out to my dead children.” The man quickly changed his tune, and the rest of us followed suit. What began as a slam on a intrusive spectator, ended in praise over one man taking the time to look out for another, something rare and precious, something we would all like to see more of.
Had it not been for my wife, I would have stayed silent, while the man ranted to save a reputation that was never really in question. Had it not been for her words, the silence would have given consent to his behavior, and the resulting conversation would have never happened. A quiet impatient line of strangers became a friendly chat between what anyone looking in would have thought were neighbors. It was no coincidence that the line also seemed to move more quickly.
Especially on today’s world, we feel powerless to effect a change, to raise the quality of our lives. We want to believe that there is good in the world, but we have allowed ourselves to become bitter and cynical, seeing only the worst in other people. We become silent and defensive, afraid that what we say or do will be criticized by others, and when we feel threatened, we lash out. What if the only thing that is wrong with us is the way we see each other?
“I have met far more good people in my life than bad.” my wife told the man just in front of us in line, and when he thought about his own experience, he had to agree. On a hot July day in the most unlikely of places two good people brought out the best in all of us. In a simple act of compassion a young man started the ball rolling, and in one simple statement, one turn of the cube, my wife changed a brief moment in the lives of several people. By looking at the positive side of the situation, she brought out what was good in all of us, and the utter simplicity of my wife‘s solution left me speechless.
In my humble opinion, any story has more than one side to it just like the Rubik's Cube, and if we don't take the time to see all the other sides we will never get anything solved.
