My morning routine is pretty basic. Once I am out of bed, I tend to turn on the computer and start making the first coffee of the day. As soon as the coffee is ready, I sit down and scan the morning headlines in both English and German. The last few weeks have made for particularly distressing reading, and I was already becoming increasingly dismayed with the state of affairs in the world, particularly in relation to violence involving police officers in the US.
Last Friday morning, I had the upsetting experience of seeing my hometown all over the headlines, due to the attack on the Dallas police officers. Emotionally distraught, I burst into tears as I read through the articles detailing the events.
Despite feeling really down through the remainder of the day, I met up with some friends for dinner at a local restaurant, and afterwards stopped briefly by a party at a little shop next to my flat that was celebrating 10 years. There, I saw a handful of some of my German friends, but unfortunately, someone unintentionally made a remark about the recent events in Dallas and it caught me at the wrong time. In fairness, these friends are all open and respectful, but the events hit a little too close to home.
I quietly moved on to the pub across the street, intending to have a beer and then maybe return to the party, but I ended up chatting with a couple of other friends. We spoke about the victims over the past weeks, the sadness we felt for the circumstances, the victims, and for the survivors. We spoke of our concerns over the lack of solutions that were needed in order to help us avoid a continued tailspin. Pretty depressing conversation topics, true, but it felt ok to open up to a couple of folks about it.
The weekend itself was pretty somber, at least for me. I stayed at home in a funk on Saturday, but late in the afternoon ventured out for a little sunshine, saw an old friend, chatted with a new friend, and laughed as I watched the very young daughter of some friends of mine do her little bits of cuteness.
Frankfurt temperatures were pretty warm on Sunday, so I spent the late afternoon again enjoying the sunshine on the terrace of the local pub. Though the victims from Dallas were still in my thoughts and prayers, I enjoyed watching all the young families go about their Sunday afternoons. There was some sort of school party earlier in the day, and as a result, there were more children outside as compared to other weekends. I thought of them as they played in the school yard across the street, and wondered if they were aware of the horrible events and problems that are facing the states right now. Hopefully not. However, I did hope that their parents were teaching them love, respect, and not to have fear, but instead be cautious.
I was standing around a little table top barrel with a few guys, including an Italian neighbor who just acquired a 3 month old kitten. I am not really a cat guy, but this little cat was very subdued, a little curious, and happens to be very exotically striped. Just about EVERYONE who strolled by stopped to take a look at the cat. A family came by with two small children, who clearly wanted to pet the cat. The mom gently encouraged them to ask my buddy. My buddy, however, speaks no German, so sort of looked at them blankly instead of responding, "Sure, you can pet the cat."
I did a quick translation, and in seconds the children were gently stroking the cat, who really seemed to enjoy the attention. A few minutes later, the family moved on, and my buddy's cat, who was on a leash, decided to investigate the surroundings, including the inside of the pub. So, my buddy and his cat left the table for a few minutes, then came back outside, where another family happened to pass by.
Re-read the last paragraph, and that pretty much happened two more times over the next 15 minutes. Finally, my buddy said that it was time to take the kitten home to his flat, which is almost as close to the pub as mine.
During his brief absence, a little girl returned from playing in the playground across the street and asked her mother where the cat was. She was looking under the tables, and seemed a bit sad that the cat was not around. Just then, the Italian guy arrived back, and I mentioned what was going on. Five seconds later, the mother of the child came up and asked about the cat. Not surprisingly, she asked the question in German, but, as I was standing right there, I responded in English (I had already heard her speaking in English to her daughter) that the guy didn't understand German.
However, once the woman asked the question again in English, he offered to take them to see the cat at his flat around the corner. So, they all headed off for a few minutes.
I was struck by the simplicity and the politeness of the events. It was nice to see pleasant people treating others with respect, regardless of nationality or age. There have been far too many random acts of violence in recent weeks, and I needed to see these random acts of kindness, however small. I still truly believe that most of humanity does prefer acts of love and kindness as opposed to acts of hate and fear.
Last evening, I had a chance to skype with my grandmother, who told me how devastated the citizens of Dallas were feeling. She went on to say something that was certainly not new to me, but I needed to hear it again.
"I have never hated someone, but I have hated what someone has done."
I was taught never to hate anyone, and that is the way I have always lived my life. The distress, the dismay that I felt last Friday morning was not just about my home town, but because I was asking the question again, "how can someone feel so much hatred that they want to go out and do something like that, simply with the intent to harm others?"
As my grandmother went on to say last evening, "I wish I was smart to have the answers to that question."
Me, too.
keep the faith
bryan
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