Creaking floorboards alerted Mari that cousins were fast approaching. She was their easy target in the game of catch, but today she determined to outwit the whole lot. She paused at the windowsill. The blue sky beyond the shutters revealed a path. It was a far drop, but she felt confident. She had watched them take the jump many times. She sat on the ledge and lunged forward. Her body slammed back against the wall and knocked out her wind. Her flailing body suspended in midair. Pain shot up her left arm. Her ring had caught on a hanging nail!
I’d occasionally run into Brian standing in front of the Shubert Theater. A gregarious sort of fella, with wavy hair and smiling eyes. I’d wave to him and he’d happily wave back, adding his unmistakable personal touch, “How are those headaches of yours?” I’d continue on my journey to the Port Authority anxious to tell my husband I had seen his cousin. I still feel his presence in Shubert Alley, as if guarding his beloved theater. This morning when I passed by, I whispered, “I attended your baby’s wedding. She was radiant.” He replied, “I know. I saw you there.”
“Follow Me and I will make you fishers of men,” said Jesus, according to Matthew 4:19. And it has been thus ever since. And it has been the basis of most religions, whether Mormon, Scientologist, Muslim, Catholic. All religion counts on recruiting new members and increasing its population to find the way to eternal life. Why so much strife, then? Why brother against brother in the name of salvation? We need to strip down to our bare essentials and reconfigure what is truly important and necessary in our individual lives. And then, maybe then, in our humility, we’ll embrace each other.