The Prince and The Magician

Once upon a time there was a young prince, who believed in all things
but three. He did not believe in princesses, he did not believe in islands,
he did not believe in God. His father, the king, told him that such things
did not exist. As there were no princesses or islands in his father’s
domains, and no sign of God, the young prince believed his father.
But then, one day, the prince ran away from his palace. He came to the
next land. There, to his astonishment, from every coast he saw islands,
and on these islands, strange and troubling creatures whom he dared
not name. As he was searching for a boat, a man in full evening dress
approached him along the shore.
“Are those real islands?” asked the young prince.
“Of course they are real islands,” said the man in evening dress.
“And those strange and troubling creatures?”
“They are all genuine and authentic princesses.”
“Then God also must exist!” cried the prince.
“I am God,” replied the man in full evening dress, with a bow.
The young prince returned home as quickly as he could.
“So you are back,” said his father, the king.
“I have seen islands, I have seen princesses, I have seen God,” said the
prince reproachfully.
The king was unmoved.
“Neither real islands, nor neat princesses, nor a real God, exist.”
“I saw them!”
“Tell me how God was dressed.”
“God was in full evening dress.”
“Were the sleeves of his coat rolled back?”
The prince remembered that they had been. The king smiled.
“That is the uniform of a magician. You have been deceived.”
At this, the prince returned to the next land, and went to the same
shore, where once again he came upon the man in full evening dress.
“My father the king has told me who you are,” said the young prince
indignantly. “You deceived me last time, but not again. Now I know that
those are not real islands and real princesses, because you are a
magician.”
The man on the shore smiled.
“It is you who are deceived, my boy. In your father’s kingdom there are
many islands and many princesses. But you are under your father’s
spell, so you cannot see them.”
The prince returned pensively home. When he saw his father, he looked
him in the eyes.
“Father, is it true that you are not a real king, but only a magician?”
The king smiled, and rolled back his sleeves.
“Yes, my son, I am only a magician.”
“Then the man on the shore was God.”
“The man on the shore was another magician.”
“I must know the real truth, the truth beyond magic.”
“There is no truth beyond magic,” said the king.
The prince was full of sadness.
He said, “I will kill myself.”
The king by magic caused death to appear. Death stood in the door and beckoned to the prince. The prince shuddered. He remembered the beautiful but unreal islands and the unreal but beautiful princesses.
“Very well,” he said. “I can bear it.
“You see, my son,” said the king, “you too now begin to be a magician.”

From The Magus by John Fowles

Stand Up for Humanity

Walking to work early yesterday morning, I watched as a homeless woman dug through a pile of garbage nested in the overgrowth of an empty lot.  Whatever food she found she took to a narrow alley between two buildings, her street home I imagine, furnished with plastic bags full of possessions discarded by someone more fortunate.  The woman crouched, shadowed  in the far corner of her street crib, and began to eat whatever it was she had found. Hardwired to survive, her arm encircled the food on her lap like a fort, while her head angled slightly eyeing the emaciated dog standing at the entrance to the alley. Suffering from the same condition, the dog watched her with gaunt, desperate eyes; kindred spirits, he waited patiently until she was done, finally scrambling for the scraps she tossed to him in the end.  Somewhat hidden from view across the street, I couldn't take my eyes off of her or the dog, their business of staying alive so raw.

I often wonder how and why people become homeless; the how is simple, they don't have money to pay for a place to live; but the why is more complicated with a multitude of reasons: poverty, lack of affordable rental housing, eroding work opportunities, domestic violence, addiction, mental health.  I hear about the conflicting intuitions people have about homelessness, some even skew the issue along political agendas to distance themselves from the inhumanity of it all. More families are on the streets today than ever before, more women, more children.  Homelessness shames us.  It is a reminder of society's failures. Standing face to face with  homelessness makes us uncomfortable;  it is impossible to process the utter hopelessness, so in fear we hurry away hoping it doesn't stick.  But we have to do something.  Donate food, bus fare to and from job interviews, clothes, toiletries; share skills, kindness, and empathy. Educate ourselves, start a dialogue for change, make it matter, make it personal.

I leave the scene and whisper as I do so often these days , "there but for the grace of God go I."

And so it goes on Friday, April 13th in Basseterre, St. Kitts.