On Monday night, it being the 4th anniversary of the U.S.war on Iraq, the Lone Star Girl and I attended a peace rally at a large local park. It was sponsored by our local peace alliance and some other groups. There was a band there playing all the old protest songs from my mothers' days and a lot of local clergy there to speak. They spoke of all the dead, reading the names of our local dead soldiers. We prayed for all of the soldiers there now to come home safely...and we prayed for the safety of the Iraqi civilians, many more of whom have been murdered in this war for control of the Earth's remaining petroleum stores. The ministers reminded us that we are the people we have been waiting for and that we must insist that our government end this unjust war. And so we must. I could feel the cold breath of those dead soldiers all around me as a medicine man from a local Native American tribe called on their spirits...may they rest more peacefully soon.
Before everything got started, I went to get a blanket from were we had left our car for us to sit upon. When I got back, the Lone Star Girl was giving an interview to a local news station. She's not as bold as all that, though. After everything was over, the band was playing and people started singing and dancing, trying to find some community after so much sorrow. A group of wild and gorgeous kids were waving candles and dancing all around. "The Unitarian kids," I said sagely to our Meeting's clerk. Those Unitarian kids are hip, you know. Not to let the Quaker kids be outdone, his 14-year-old daughter tried to take the Lone Star Girl's hand and lead her out to dance, too, but the Lone Star Girl would have none of that. I danced with the other Quaker girl and my Quaker girl acted like I was just some weird lady she happened to be standing near. Not so bold as all of that.
For all the sorrow, the sense of community was very good to feel. I must carry it with me and let it light my way.
No comments:
Post a Comment