Humanity

[Amin C]

Humanity 

We are human, we are family -- we all look at the same stars, we all laugh and cry, we all love.  

When it comes to our families, we sometimes see only our differences. We see the way our parents cling to ideas we don't believe, or act in ways we try not to copy. We see how practical one of our siblings is and wonder how we can be from the same gene pool. Similarly, within the human family we see how different we are from each other, in ways ranging from gender and race to geographical location and religious beliefs. It is almost as if we think we are a different species sometimes. But the truth is, in our personal families as well as the human family, we really are the same.
 
A single mother of four living in Africa looks up at the same stars and moon that shine down on an elderly Frenchman in Paris. A Tibetan monk living in India, a newborn infant in China, and a young couple saying their marriage vows in Indiana all breathe the same air, by the same process. We have all been hurt and we have all cried. Each one of us knows how it feels to love someone dearly. No matter what our political views are, we all love to laugh. Regardless of how much or how little money we have, our hearts pump blood through our bodies in the same way. With all this in common, it is clear we are each individual members of the same family. We are human.
 
Acknowledging how close we all are, instead of clinging to what separates us, enables us to feel less alone in the world. Every person we meet, see, hear, or read about is a member of our family. We are truly not alone. We also begin to see that we are perfectly capable of understanding and relating to people who, on the surface, may seem very different from us. This awareness prevents us from disconnecting from people on the other side of the tracks, and the other side of the world. We begin to understand that we must treat all people for what they are -- family.                                   

 

 

 

Best Wishes, Kind Regards & Ya Ali Madad &

   السَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ

(As-salāmu ʿalaykum)

 

Amin Chunara

[Amin C]

 

Humanity

 Min Shres

He was 88, a veteran, and about to lose his home. He sat in his wheelchair and wept... then the judge stepped down from the bench.

Arthur, an 88-year-old Vietnam veteran, sat in his wheelchair in the back of the courtroom. His wife was gone, he had no children, and his small house was falling apart. He'd been cited for code violations he couldn't afford to fix—a broken porch, peeling paint, and a leaking roof.

The judge, a 65-year-old man known for his stern, "by-the-book" rulings, called his case.

Arthur listened, his hands trembling, as the city attorney listed the violations and the thousands in fines. When the attorney formally requested the court's permission to condemn the property if the fines weren't paid, the finality of it hit him. This was it. He was losing his home.

The judge began to speak. "Mr. Harris, the city is asking for... "

He stopped. He just looked at the frail old man, who had now buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking in a silent, heartbreaking sob.

The courtroom went quiet. The judge, his own face tightening with emotion, looked conflicted. "We will take a 15-minute recess," he announced abruptly, banging his gavel.

When he returned, the courtroom was buzzing. The judge looked not at the attorneys, but directly at Arthur.

"Mr. Harris," the judge said, his voice softer now. "I spent my recess on the phone. I have spoken with the director of the local VFW, who is a friend of mine, and with our county's Veterans' fund. All fines are hereby dismissed."

Arthur looked up, his face a mask of stunned disbelief.

"Furthermore," the judge continued, "a local contractor's union has already pledged to do all the repairs, pro bono, starting next week."

This second wave of kindness was too much. Arthur, who had been crying from despair, now broke down in tears of overwhelming relief.

The judge then did something no one had ever seen. He stepped down from his high bench, walked directly to the wheelchair, and pulled the old soldier into a full, strong hug.

As Arthur wept into the judge's robe, he whispered, his voice trembling, "I... I didn't think anybody cared anymore."

The judge held him tighter and whispered back, his voice thick: "We do. I do. You served us. We don't forget that."

 

   

  

Best Wishes, Kind Regards & Ya Ali Madad &

   السَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ

(As-salāmu ʿalaykum)

 

Amin Chunara