As we know, many complex lessons don't involve standards and assessments. Here's one I recently experienced, and I hope time allows greater understanding of the big ideas:
My family visited a home this weekend humble in comparison to what we know. It was a tight space-- furniture cluttered the 5-room building, making any navigation difficult. As I sat down, I noticed several coasters on the coffee table, each depicting an eagle, an American flag, and “God Bless America.” I looked up and saw a worn, bare spot on the ceiling where water had done some damage. Duct tape striped a few openings. A little Yorky tried to lick our faces throughout the visit. Time was short-- a trek out to the Prairie Meadows casino for the weekly drawing awaited the host. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind’s ear, John Mellencamp’s “Pink Houses” seeped in.
The conversations were forced, but certainly tried. We learned of the burdens of ex-cons. There was no doubt as to the source of the problem; that was clearly accepted. No driver's license, the required classes, and mandatory hardline phone pulled relatives and others into the problem: chauffeuring, added bills, food, shelter, and external issues incurred.
And there's winners, and there's losers
But they ain't no big deal
'Cause the simple man, baby, pays the thrills, the bills,
The pills that kill
We also learned of retired relatives with health limitations. Retirement has been rough on the couple. A lifetime of low-wage labor jobs left little to live on, and an eviction ensued. The eviction turned them to sleeping in a car until they were allowed to bunk in a local auto parts store (when it worked out, and not during business hours). A marginally reliable vehicle didn't always get them to the store by closing time, which meant missing medications and the ensuing swelling of the legs. Destiny, apparently, the stronger prescription.
The big drawing time drew nearer and we collected to leave. I hung my head, trying to comprehend the gravity of these situations. I was thankful for what I have and what I've been given, but as I looked down, there it was again: “God Bless America.”
Little was said on the drive home. The enigma of the coasters proved a brain twister.
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