Tin Man

Mine is a story

Not many people know

It’s a story that can’t be told

Or ever shown on screen

It’s a story that can’t be written

Until someone sets me free

The day I fell in love

I learned what happiness was

She was a little munchkin maid

And I was a feller of trees

I had lost my parents

As many men do

I needed a new reason to live

And she was the only one for me

I planned to make a life for us

I wanted the very best things

She asked me to build a house for us

And I went to work that same day

My betrothed lived with an old hag

Who scorned me bitterly

Since I would take her servant away

She asked a witch to get rid of me

A powerful witch indeed

The witch watched me through woods

She knew my trade too well

She devised a hellish demise for me

And bewitched my woodsman’s axe

The axe felt different in my hands

At first I didn’t know why

Then the blade turned on me

And cut my left leg clean

The blood, oh blood flowed freely

My life was all but gone

But the thought of love pulled me back

And I found someone who could help

He was a tinsmith and he had an idea

He fixed a new leg for me

I got back to work but didn’t know

The witched continued to watch me

My leg worked fine and my grip was sure

I continued with my work

But in a moment the blade turned once more

And cut my right leg clean

The scream, oh my scream echoed out

I couldn’t believe my eyes

For I knew this was no accident

And someone wanted me to die

I found my tinsmith friend again

He fixed a new leg for me

I went back to work but before I finished

The axe cut my left arm clean

The pain, oh the pain deep and searing

And more blood than before

My heart was nearly drained dry

But the tinsmith saved me once more

The tin arm was stronger

The grip was firmer

I worked faster than before

But the axe wasn’t finished with me

And it cut my right arm clean

The misery, the woe of losing every limb

I thought there could be nothing worse

But the munchkin girl still loved me

Despite the witch’s curse

The witch knew this and did not relent

Oh no she would never quit

But I wouldn’t stop till my work was done

So she made the axe take my head

My head, my head I thought I was dead

But my heart kept on ticking

I could feel my guardian near me then

And the tinsmith saved me once again

Legs, arms, and a head made of tin

What could the witch do to me then?

Even she puzzled at my transformation

But then she knew what it would take

To kill my determination

The enchanted blade turned toward my chest

And drove itself right through me

It broke my body in two parts

And dashed my heart to bits

I watched the tinsmith through my tin eyes

As he made a new torso for me

My friend and hero saved me again

But he neglected to replace the most important part

My heart, oh my heart

The most important part

Instead there was emptiness

And my love was long forgotten

The witched rejoiced

And claimed her prize from the hag

My maiden waited patiently

And never heard from me again

No love, no joy

Just work work work

No house, no ring

Just chop chop chop

I stood in the woods

Shining in the sun

Admiring my brightness

Thinking “No one can hurt me!”

As long as I remembered to oil my joints

I could work all day and all night

But one day I forgot and was caught in a storm

Now I’m frozen in place like a sundial

By my calculations I’ve been here for a year

Staring at the bark of this tree

Thinking of what could have been

My axe is raised high toward a sky

That forgot I ever existed

I’m frozen in the grove

Stuck as if in sap

Standing like a statue

Invisible to the passerby

With only trees for company

But even they are freer than me

For they’re allowed to fall and die

No such privilege is afforded to one such as I

Last night I dreamed of a girl in gingham blue

Flying to my land in a small farm house

She landed right on top of that cursed witch

And followed a path of yellow bricks

She heard my cry in the woods

And ran for my oil can

She freed me from my statue stance

And took me to a magic man

Who granted me a heart

The dream was so real it awoke my joy

It stirred my soul and I would have cried

If I could just remember where tears came from

And had a heart to pump them through my eyes

How I miss my heart

And my true happiness

Now I wait for the girl

In the blue gingham dress

Burden

Tonight I descended a hill and was surprised to see a veritable barricade of fire trucks and police cars come into view. They had taken over more than half of the road and I had to carefully navigate around two firemen who were conversing in the middle of the road. As I passed them I glanced toward the side of the road they were protecting and I saw a crumpled bicycle. It was white and the once perfectly formed rims looked they had been in the hands of a giant. The handlebar tape was still tightly wound and the paint on the bike frame betrayed no sign of distress. The surface of the bike was smooth and shiny enough to draw the eye. The form of the bike was destroyed. I thought to myself, “Tonight someone’s life has changed forever.” I could not tell if the driver was present or where the cyclist had been taken. The possibility that a moment of inattention or carelessness could cost someone their life or damage their body permanently jarred my steady mind and sent it searching for empathy for someone I had never seen and probably will never meet.

A few hours later I was at the theater to see my friend Scarlett perform in a musical version “A Christmas Carol.” The only version of the story I’ve ever seen is “The Muppet Christmas Carol” (1992) which I watched once as a nine-year-old in the movie theater, once or twice on video and then once two weeks ago. If it hadn’t been for the recent review I probably would have been a bit lost as the wrath of Ebenezer Scrooge coursed its way through well-wishers and do-gooders. Each person he scorned was momentarily surprised by his behavior but they continued about their business and settled in for another warm albeit chilly Christmas Eve. Scrooge closed up shop and made his way home after deriding his employee, Bob Cratchit, for requesting Christmas Day off.

As soon as Scrooge’s front door came into view his night of visions and wonders began. He thought he saw his deceased business partner’s face in the familiar brass knocker. He wrote it off. A short time later, after changing into his nightclothes, he spotted that same familiar face in a dark corner of this room. The vision was accompanied by what must surely be an auditory hallucination – the scratchy voice of Jacob Marley and a terrible rattling chain dragging along Scrooge’s cold floor. As Marley’s body came into view his death-white face and choking chain caused Scrooge to laugh in disbelief and attribute the strange vision to indigestion. Marley would not be ignored. Scrooge glanced at Marley’s strange metal accessories and asked, “What chain is this you wear?” Marley only let a half of a moment pass by – enough time to press one of the links between his fingers – and answered, “It is the chain I forged in life.”

I have to admit my jaw dropped a little. I tried to listen to the rest of the dialogue but I was carried away by this idea – a simple idea – of how our actions can shape (or in this case forge) our fate. I hadn’t understood why the Marley ghost (or in the Muppets’ case ghosts) wore chains. Now after looking up the Muppets version on YouTube I see the explanation was there all along, “Captive, bound/We’re double-ironed/Exhausted by the weight/As freedom comes with giving love/So, prison comes with hate.” I wondered if, say, this was literally how things worked, “How many links would I have formed at this point in my life?”

My thoughts traveled along as Scrooge’s journey began. He was visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past who reminded him of the joy he once felt at Christmas. Sadly Scrooge didn’t stay a joyful boy forever. He, like us, had to grow up. Memories often serve up helpings of feelings we wish we could forget. Scrooge saw himself fall in love as a young man and then abandon his beloved as he sought out worldly success (aka money). Long forgotten joy could only momentarily lift Scrooge before the memory of lost love cast a shadow dark enough to hide even the brilliantly white Ghost of Christmas Past. No worry, the Ghost of Christmas Present soon bounded toward him, ready to celebrate with revelers and show Scrooge how happy his nephew was (making fun of Scrooge, that is) and how content the Cratchit family was in their simple home. Tiny Tim lit up on the room as his father carried him into the house on his shoulder. Scrooge immediately felt something for the boy – first affection, then concern. In a time when life was as fragile as a fine glass ornament Scrooge knew the life of this small boy with twisted legs and weak lungs could be snuffed out like a candle if the wind blew a fever his way. He asked the Ghost of Christmas Present if Tiny Tim would live. The ghost read the shadows in the room – shadows cast by present actions which lead to future consequences – and told Scrooge that if things continued as they were currently set in motion, the boy would not live.

Pleading for the life of the boy, darkness fell over Scrooge. The merry ghost left him and I cowered in my seat in the theater because I know who was up next: The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. As light retuned to the stage I could make out the profile of a reaper. I think the scariest thing about these hooded figures is our habit to search for eyes in the place where a face should be. In the split second my eyes involuntarily search for another’s and realize they’ve found nothing they also manage to form eyes in the place where there are none. Usually the resulting illusion is small, red, glowing eyes faint as cooling briquettes. I’ve long since known my mind can construct nightmares from empty spaces. Scrooge cowered at the ghost’s feet and confessed he feared nothing more than that which is to come. The ghost showed him villagers who had robbed someone recently deceased (that someone being Scrooge) and transported him to the home of the Cratchit family. Bob’s wife was awaiting her husband’s arrival from the cemetery and the children were dressed in black. There was one child missing. Bob was late returning and one son remarked his father walked a bit slower nowadays. The mother’s eyes widened in pleasant memory as she recalled a time when her husband walked quickly and joyfully. It was when he carried Tiny Tim on his shoulder.

How can it be that carrying another person actually lifts us up? How does it give us the strength and motivation to quicken and even lengthen our stride? And, when they’re gone, how can we find peace knowing we’ve laid them in a safe place covered in green grass near a protective wall?

The ghost carried Scrooge to a lonely graveyard in which only headstones kept one another company. There, before Scrooge’s bowed body, stood a lowly grave marker bearing a very familiar name. “Ebenezer Scrooge.”

Sobbing for a chance to make things right Scrooge grasped the headstone, burdened by all he had done, all he had seen, and all it could mean for his future and the future of those he inexplicably loved. Darkness once again surrounded him and in the black night he closed his eyes and vowed he had changed. When he opened his eyes he was clutching the blanket of his own bed. When he realized his good fortune he declared, “I don’t know what to do. I’m light as a feather!” He played the rest of the day by ear – generously tipping an errand boy and a poulterer, sending a generous feast to the Cratchit family, donating to charity and joining his nephew for dinner all the while plotting to give Bob Cratchit a raise the very next day. As he partook in the joy surrounding him he shook his head. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to be this happy. But I can’t help it.”

Tonight someone’s life was changed forever. I may never find out the fate of the cyclist or what caused the motorist to mangle the white bike but I have a feeling someone will be carrying a burden because of it. It may be mental, physical or emotional. It will almost definitely be financial. I just hope the rescuers involved were quick enough to prevent a life being lost. If not I hope they don’t partake in the burden, shame and misery caused by what was most likely an innocent mistake.

This evening’s events reminded me of the fragility of life. Mortality is a fickle creature, accompanying each of us in a different manner for various amounts of time. Scrooge had everything to fear and everything to lose but he relearned how to love by observing a peaceful family and the loving relationship between a father and his smallest boy. He took charge of his life and rerouted his heart in search of good things to do. Like the character Jean Valjean in Les Misérables he dedicated the remainder of his life to fairness, charity and a higher power. In the end of the musical Les Misérables an angel appears and beckons, “Come with me, where chains will never bind you/All your grief at last, at last behind you/Lord in Heaven, look down on him in mercy.” Prepared to move on Valjean adds, “Forgive me all my trespasses and take me to your glory.” Another angel joins the first, “Take my hand, I’ll lead you to salvation/Take my love, for love is everlasting.” As Valjean departs they sing together, “And remember, the truth that once was spoken/To love another person is to see the face of God.”

What carries you? Perhaps it’s a homemade crutch hidden in the corner. Maybe it’s a crumpled bicycle. Or could it be the strong shoulder of your father? Sometimes the sheer need to carry on can be enough. I hope for you, especially during this season, it is love. I hope you find the strength to be everything you are you meant to be and that your burdens are lightened at every turn. More than anything I hope, when the time is right, love will carry you home.

.....

Update: The bicyclist who was hit on Wednesday 12/14 was Bridgett Noland. Please keep her in your prayers. For more information visit this blog: http://bridgettnoland.blogspot.com/

What is Love?

'Tis the season of love.

I stopped by the grocery store last night to pick up a wedding card for my friend. The place was packed (thank you "PTA Night") and the lines were a little long for my liking. I was so wrapped up in digging my wallet out of my purse that I didn't realize I got in line behind two kids. I sighed and thought, "Irrrr... they probably have cash... that's going to add at least 20 seconds to each transaction." They must have been brother and sister. The boy was about eight or nine years old and gave a handful of candy bars to the cashier. She rang each bar code and said, "Your total is $4.61." To my surprise the little boy threw his fist in the air and exclaimed, "Yessss!! Cheap valentine!!" I forgot to be mad about the long lines and had to stifle a giggle. The boy seemed really excited about his prospects and after his sister completed her transaction (with a debit card, I might add), he left the store smiling.

Hours after my grocery store visit I made it to the wedding reception with 15 minutes to spare. As I stood in line and watched the glowing bride and groom greet guests I marveled at the fact they had found each other and made this leap of faith. I suppose love comes in many forms. Sometimes it's hidden in a candy wrapper or a ring box but most of the time it seems intangible. It can be a look, a touch, a word or a feeling hovering in the air. It is hard to separate the goopie commercialized Valentine's Day goo from the real substance of romantic love. "Love" has become associated with spending money and, even if we can get it for $4.61 or even cheaper, we're buying into the concept that the Beatles were WRONG and money CAN buy us love. If the Beatles are proved wrong, is this life really worth living?

Tell me - what do you think love is? Can you put a price on it?

To Have Loved and Lost

Last year my friend Karissa was teaching Sunday School. She's a very illustrative teacher and had a large and talkative class to handle. As usual, she did a great job catching our attention. She asked us to close our eyes and imagine the thing that was most precious to us. It could be a person, an object, a place, anything that came to mind. I thought of a person. Someone who had been very dear to me. Karissa asked us to hold out one of our hands in a fist and imagine keeping this person, place or thing safe in our grasp. Then she did something that made my heart twinge - she asked us to imagine opening our hand and letting it go. I can't remember what the rest of the lesson was about. Maybe I kept thinking about him. His smile, his laugh, the way he would look at me. I had tried to let him go several times but we always ended up together again. Our history was long and complicated and at that time I wasn't ready to let him go.

Last Sunday another friend of mine was teaching Sunday School. We were in the book of 1 Kings studying the life of Solomon. My understanding of the Old Testament is sketchy at best but I'd already been thinking about the story of Solomon for days. The teacher commented that Solomon's great wisdom is mentioned many times in this part of the Bible but the only solid example we have is of two mothers who approached him with one baby. Each is claimed to be the rightful mother by birth. Solomon asked for a sword to be brought forth and proposed a gruesome solution: simply divide the baby in half and allow each mother to take her share. The true mother was horrified at the prospect and said, "O my lord, give her the living child, and in no wise slay it," (1 Kings 3:26). The false mother had a very different take on the situation, "Let it be neither mine nor thine, but divide it," (1 Kings 3:26). She simply said, "If I can't have him, no one can." Solomon instantly knew that this woman was the one who accidentally smothered her own child the previous night as she slept. He granted the honest woman custody of the child, "She is the mother thereof." While the story is simple and only encompasses a few verses in a very dense book of scripture, it teaches one of the greatest wisdoms ever taught: If you really love something, you love it enough to let it go. Let it live. Let it be. If you really love someone you allow them to go their own way and make their own choices even if you're convinced you could do a better job taking care of them. This applies to parents who let their children leave the nest, romantic partners who allow one another to keep searching for the right person, and little children who understand that putting a dear family pet to sleep is sometimes the kindest thing you can do.

I don't know how many of you out there had cats or dogs but I'm sure many who have would agree that they add something special to a home. I grew up with my two older sisters' cats always hanging around. I absolutely loved them. They were long-haired outdoor cats. Heidi was slightly older than Taffy and one day we noticed her back legs were dragging a bit. I was in sixth grade but Heidi was already 16. I always dreaded losing one of these two cats and I knew the day was quickly approaching when my mom told me Heidi had been diagnosed with cancer. One morning I said goodbye to her in the garage before leaving for school. She was too weak to come off of the bookshelf she often slept in. I couldn't believe this was the last time I was going to see her alive, watch her stomach rise and fall with each breath, hear her purr or feel her wet little nose. I took a final look at those big green eyes longing for rest and walked back into the house. I knew holding onto Heidi for a few more days or weeks would have been wrong. It was my first lesson in love. I thought I had it pretty tough because I had to go to school that day but my mom had a much harder job: taking her to the vet. When I came home from school my dad was preparing to bury Heidi. My mom was beside herself. She said that taking Heidi in had been one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. We thought of Taffy and wondered if my mom would have to make another trip to the vet that year. The thought of it was too much. I have often heard beautiful stories of elderly married couples who peacefully die within days of each other. Heidi and Taffy were best friends and one day Taffy simply settled into a comfortable nook by the porch and slipped away. I believe this was a tender mercy afforded to us by a God who loves all of his creations - yes, even cats!

I didn't date a lot in high school or college but I tried to convince myself that if I found love, I'd know what to do with it. In the middle of my senior year of college I met someone that caught my eye, inexplicably so. He wasn't really my type and we didn't have a ton in common but we became friends and had fun together. His girlfriend had just left on a mission and I knew he was really torn up about it. Months passed and as my graduation grew closer, so did our relationship. In the heat of summer things began to change quicker and I wondered if this was going to work out. I was due to move home to California for graduate school but I made a series of rash decisions in an attempt to show him I was serious about giving our relationship a chance. By the time everything was sorted out half of my belongings had been brought back to California by my very patient (and forgiving) parents. He agreed to do me a favor and drive with me to my hometown so I could collect my things. He had met my parents during graduation but this was his chance to see California and our family dynamic up close. Somewhere between the beaches and redwood forests we allowed ourselves to fall a little deeper and explore the possibilities of being together. By the end of that visit I was convinced we were going to get married and he had many encouraging words to lead me to believe so. Apparently, however, I missed the part where he became convinced our families just wouldn't mesh together and how, more importantly, I would never fit in with his mom's side of the family. Unfortunately for us neither one of us was mature or wise enough to sacrifice our "comfortable" time together in order to let the other go free. We kept returning to what we knew and what was easy. The relationship became cancerous but I held on to it. I couldn't let it go. I was convinced that with a little more time and a little more patience, things would get better. He would love me again. We'd get back to where we had been and then be able to grow together normally. I was completely wrong.

The months and years that followed that trip to California were a sloppy attempt at normal friendship. I tried make myself believe that I could keep the relationship casual but when you have already imagined exactly what it would be like to spend the rest of your life with someone, it's hard to imagine anyone else being right for you. It's even more difficult to imagine anyone else being right for them. You're the one they're supposed to be with, who's supposed to take care of them. The truth is that love, patience and time can't cure a relationship crippled with cancer. The only way to get healthy again is to cut it out completely. If it means never seeing the person again, so be it. What had begun as a time brilliant with hope and potential ended tarnished with regret on a dark night last summer. I had to face the fact the only way to make it out of the hole I had dug was to never see him again. It took me a long time and repeated listening of the song "Let it Be."

When I find myself in times of trouble

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

And in my hour of darkness

She is standing right in front of me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the brokenhearted people

Living in the world agree,

There will be an answer, let it be.

For though they may be parted there is

Still a chance that they will see

There will be an answer, let it be.

Let it be, let it be. Yeah

There will be an answer, let it be.

And when the night is cloudy,

There is still a light that shines on me,

Shine on until tomorrow, let it be.

I wake up to the sound of music

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

There will be an answer, let it be.

Let it be, let it be,

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

Luckily I received an answer confirming that I could give this boy up. I've been happier every day for the decision I made so many months ago. I could have tried to cripple him to the point where he'd be incapable of forming a lasting relationship, ("If I can't have him no one can,") but instead I chose to let him go his own way and let him find the one he is meant to be with. I have loved many things in my life and I've lost many of them. If you've loved, if you've lost, keep going. Keep growing. This is an essential part of life. These experiences and others have helped tune my ability to love. I'm not all the way there yet but I have made leaps and bounds thanks to examples in my family and the occasional heartbreak that is simply part of the young single adult life.