Massacres of all types

massacre 

 

noun

1. 

the unnecessary, indiscriminate killing of a large number of human beings or animals, as in barbarous warfare or persecution or for revenge or plunder

2. 

a general slaughter, as of persons or animals

the massacre of millions during the war

.  

Massacre on a grand scale is brutal and grotesque.  It cannot be hidden or ignored.  The results clearly scar the world with undeniable evidence.

But, what about massacre that goes unseen, unrecognized?  The NEVER recognized massacres?  But they exist all the same.

Environmentalists and scientists declare the massacre of threatened species cannot be reversed. To choose just one species to write about is impossible.

 

Massacre of 1 million American Bison in 1800s 

But the worst massacre of all is...

Another massacre that exists on a grand scale, but which has created great debate is the destruction of newly-forming life: abortion. 

Politics being what they are and staunch personal beliefs collide here.  Is this simply a multi-cell organism that can be removed at the convenience of the female?  

Or

 

Is this a living baby with the potential to grow and become a fully functioning human being?

Since 1974, the number of abortions numbers in tens of millions.  If this were a massacre of an existing population, the outcry would be deafening.  (Note:  No photos will be shown here.  Statistics can be found by clicking on the underlined above.  Thanks.)

Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg was active in her support of Roe v. Wade passing, allowing for abortions.  Click on the site below  for information.

One statement she made during the interview ("Frankly, I had thought at the time Roe was decided, there was concern about population growth and particularly growth in populations that we don't want to have too many of.")

 

 Gov. Maura Healey (D-MA) on Monday signed a bill passed by the state legislature at the end of July that allows for elective abortion through all weeks of pregnancy based upon the professional judgment of a medical doctor performing the abortion. This is available up the day before the birth, at full term.

 

Question:  These quiet massacres—the ones that occur quietly around the clock—do they infuriate you the way they do me??  How do you react to the ones above?

 

Just think about this and go from there.

 

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To be the Queen of the Carnival

 

 Today I am thinking of Caroline.  

I see her with her dark straight hair, smooth dark skin, living in a land of Wonder Bread.  In my mind, she is surviving with her brothers and parents, moving from place to place, always starting over.  I see her catching the bus, eyes cast to the ground, hoping no one would notice her.

I can see her yet, a small teenage girl, shivering with anxiety.  A dark skin among a sea of all white, Caroline was drowning.

It was strange then and even now to me.  

On Friday near the end of May, our bus had bumped down a dust and gravel road, everyday passing a weedy patch, hiding a rusted and faded single wide mobile home. With weeds almost engulfing it, this tin can of a home for years had been empty, with overhead wires feeding it power, and buckets to carry for water.

Then, on Monday there parked by the battered trailer was an equally rusty station wagon.  

On this Monday, Caroline stood waiting where gravel met weeds.  She ducked in quickly, and scooted over in the seat behind bus driver.  She shrank down into her shell, dark straight hair shading, covering her face.

Days careened into each other, until the bus stopped to release Caroline on the last day of school.  And that seemed to be it, no more stops and hiding behind her hair.

Carnival!  Yearly Carnival weekend arrived for its annual weekend of wonder and excitement! Lights and games and rides--glamour and side glances at the exotic carnies!  

In the middle of rides and games stood a booth for choosing "Queen of Carnival".  A photo of each candidate hovered over a gallon glass jar, where one could drop some coins.  The winner would be the one with the most coins, meaning not just pennies, but some silver as well.

I looked at each familiar face, lovely young women all of them.  Donna?  Betty? Maryanne? ...and then there was a photo of Caroline over an almost empty jar. Caroline?  Is that you?  

Caroline and her family walked around the Wonder Bread street.  Whispers followed them--Indians? You know, the ones in tents and rode horses...? India?  My dad was in India during the War... Dark skin and straight coal black hair, deep brown eyes were proud, defying, almost angry.

The sun set on a last night when a queen would be chosen and crowned, culmination of all the lights. 

In the moments before the jars were to be collected, Caroline''s brothers carried bags of coins to pour into an almost empty jar sitting beneath the photo of Caroline''s smiling face.  Handfuls of coins rained into the jar, over and over, until overflowing. 

Judges walked around and looked at each photo, at each jar.  Stopping at Caroline's coin filled jar, each nodded.  One took her photo and walked up steps of park's bandstand.  Standing at the foot of the steps were Caroline's family, dark eyes reflecting bright lights as only a carnival could have.

When her name was announced...

 

This is not the crown of that night, just vague memory. 

she stood tall, a queen in Wonder Bread land, walking up steps.  A crown was placed on her dark hair while Caroline cast a brilliant smile across the town.  Her father stood proudly, tears down his face. His daughter.  His girl was queen. 

For the entire summer, whenever Caroline and her family ventured into town to shop, she always wore her crown.  Every single time that lovingly made for another queen"s crown--Ella Evans whose late daughter had worn it 20 years ago as the carnival queen--perched upon her dark hair, now pulled back away from her glowing face.

When it was time for our bus to begin making its its daily journey, the car was gone, leaving the trailer, new weeds growing.

Queen Caroline moved somewhere, taking a glow of one night when she was crowned.

Where did she go? Does she still wear the crown?

I saw this as a teenage girl myself. My breath caught in my chest as she beamed with the crown upon her head. She was so beautiful, the most beautiful queen ever.

Some aspects had to be changed for the fluidity of the story. 

Kindness is needed

Random Acts of Kindness Blog Fest

 

Standing in a long queue at the pharmacy is always stressful.  It often seemed to Nancy as she needed medication for shingles and was at the end of an emotional tether, all the people ahead of her needed so much. 

Some needed translations into Spanish.  Some needed calls made to their doctors.  Some elderly people needed a multitude of help.

Source: COBRA Soft

Nancy needed to return home; shingles was eating up any energy she had.  But she would not give up her spot in the line, since she was the next person up, after a frail old woman finished talking with the pharmacy technician.  Nancy gritted her teeth, and then overheard the old woman speaking.

“That much?  It costs that much?”  She opened her wallet.  “I don’t have enough…I guess I will have to wait until next week to pick this prescription up…”

Source: bies

The technician explained to her that the doctor said she needed to start taking this prescription today.  The woman stepped away and said she would have to think about what she could give up today, so she could buy the medicine.

Nancy took her place in front of the technician.  Impulsively, Nancy leaned in and whispered, “How much does that woman need to pay for that prescription?”

The technician hesitated, but leaned forward and whispered, “About fifteen dollars.” 

Nancy checked her purse.  She had a five, three ones, and one twenty dollar bill.  She pulled out the twenty.  “Here…I’ll pay for her prescription, but you can’t tell her who gave the money.”

Surprised, the technician took the money.  As Nancy left the counter and walked through the store, she heard the elderly woman called over the speaker.  Then she heard the woman exclaim.  Relief was in her voice.

Nancy smiled.  She needed to hear that.

This is a true story.  I was there.  With my shingles.