The sun was starting to set when we said goodbye to Maggie May and Romain got onto his bike and headed back out onto the road. I myself wasn’t really feeling like walking further that day, so I headed across the street to the Greenville United Methodist Church to see if there was a porch or a table or a landing upon which I could spend the night. It wasn’t long before I thought I had found a decent sleeping option (a series of picnic tables under a large metal pavilion), and then another double dose of unexpected Kindness arrived – first in the form of Mike Alford (the church’s volunteer handyman), who was nice enough to ask me about my Walk and then call the primary preacher and ask if I could stay the night inside the church (on par for the course for Christian churches here in the States, the preacher was less than fond of the idea, citing a lack of insurance “if something happened” as his excuse for turning me away). We chatted quite amicably for awhile thereafter (and he even got me glass of water and a bag of peanuts from inside the sanctuary), and then after he had departed Carol Milkman (another church volunteer) showed up as well. In similar fashion, she too asked all about my Walk and then – unbeknownst to me at the time – headed home lickety split to gather me a large bag of food for the road. She returned with the same a short while later, where she found me still sitting in my same setting sunbeam, and we had a lovely conversation as well – about the church and community and kindness and our respective journeys. I thanked her profusely for the food before she left, and then sorted everything out after she had departed – keeping all the cruelty-free items for a small but filling post-dinner snack, and then Grace-fully offering the nonvegan leftovers to all my locally-residing animal-friends.*

*i.e. tearing them into smaller pieces & sprinkling them into the bushes all around the church grounds.

“There is magic still in this sad, hard world; a magic stronger than fate, a magic stronger than chance. And this magic is seen in the unlikeliest of places – by a hearth at night, as a girl leaves a bit of bread for a hungry mouse – and in the slaughter yard, where a courageous youth sneaks in at night to cut the fence and rescue those who are destined to be brutally dispatched the next morning – and in a poor carpenter’s small attic room, where three sisters learned that the price of forgiveness is forgiving .. and now, too, on a battlefield, as a mere boy tries to turn the red tide of war by refusing to pull his gun’s trigger. This is the magic of all frail and fallible creatures, the ones capable of both unspeakable cruelty and yet also immense kindness. This is the magic that lives inside every single human being who is finally ready to redeem him or herself for past transgressions of self & other. Choosing to replace the madness of violence with the sanity of caring is what transform us – what redeems us – what saves us. If we can only engage the humility required to hear its whispered voice, we can then summon the courage required to heed its noble call. This is the magic of the human heart … It is never too late to be kind, polite, and a loving human being to all sentient creatures – the great and the small, and today is by far the best day to start.” ~ inspired by Jennifer Donnelly & Eddie Jaku

Filed under: Peace Pilgrimage #02: Walking HOME (2019) by Scaughdt