An Ode to the Passage of Time

This week, among the many stories that captivated the public's interest, was the story of Karen Klein, a 68-year-old school bus monitor, who was videotaped being verbally abused and bullied by a group of middle school kids until she cried. The outrage over the kids' lack of respect and cruelty has been nothing short of astonishing. Money has been pouring in from all over the world from people who want for Ms. Klein to take a well-deserved vacation. Some would like to see her retire and never have to do that type of work again. As I type this sentence, strangers moved by this poor woman's suffering have donated over $577,000.

The power of the internet. The power of humans seeing one of their own in need.

The power of the passage of time.

Ahh yes, time. The interesting thing about time is that none of us can escape it. Seemingly before those kids know it, they too will be older, and will have to venture out into the world each day, taking their chances that they don't cross paths with people, maybe even children, who for their own reasons find excitement in targeting those who cannot defend themselves. They'll will know how it feels to be easy pickings for cowards.

I'm not talking about karma, just the inevitability of the life cycle. We are born vulnerable, relying on others to see us into the next phase of life. We then repeat our beginnings, relying again on others to see us into our next...and final phase.

Despite all I've just written, I know that kids grow up. And that our actions as children don't define who we are as adults. I remember how mischievous and annoying I was as a kid. I was a good kid, but I went through a phase where I would purposely aggravate my grandfather when my mother wasn't around. I was an only child, and perhaps saw him as a cure for my boredom. I didn't know then all the wisdom that sat before me. All the stories of what it was like to grow up in rural Louisiana in the 1920s. I was just too young to appreciate him.

I've strayed so far from the point of my post, or maybe I haven't. I just wanted to add a voice in support of Ms. Klein. And then I got to remembering the grandfather who I annoyed and pestered. The grandfather who by the time I was old enough to finally ask all those questions, was gone.

If only we could appreciate our elders while we are young. There's no guarantee they'll still be around when we've entered into our next phase.


 Love,

JenntheEditor