The Story of the Wandering Children
There once was a band of wandering children in a city just like ours. They had no mothers. They had no fathers. They had no homes. All they had were the rags on their backs and each other. They would wander from factory to factory looking for food. They would wander from house to house looking for a place to sleep. No one wanted these dirty children. Everyone would send them away saying, “Go to the next house. Perhaps they have a morsel of food for you.”
They would go to the next house but the same thing would happen there. The housewife in her nylon coat would come to the door and say, “Away with you, dirty children. I want nothing to do with children. I have no children of my own. I am too busy watching the television. Please, go away.”
They would go away but the same thing was happening over and over again. The wandering children decided to try the outskirts of town so they left the center of the city and knocked on the doors in the suburbs.
The people there were somewhat kinder and said, “Oh, you poor dear children. How sad to see you in such a dirty condition. But, we haven’t enough money to help you. All of the money we earn goes to the government in the shining buildings in the center of town.”
The wandering children were disheartened again and decided to try the countryside. They left the suburbs and wandered deeper and deeper into the countryside. They came to a farm house and asked for help. The people living there said, “Oh, look at you filthy wandering children. What are you doing so far from the city where you belong? I’m afraid we can’t help you. When the sun comes up, we must take our giant machinery into the fields and collect the wheat into gigantic trucks. Then we must carry it across the cement highways to the glistening buildings of the city. We must feed the thousands of people there.”
The hungry and tired children decided to camp in the farmer’s field. The farmer chased them away, saying, “You mustn’t camp here. Why, you might ruin some of the wheat I have grown. I must grow tons of wheat. Go into the mountains where you will not bother anyone.”
So, the wandering children continued until they reached the mountains where there were no houses, no farms, no cabins and no people to bother. They had no food and no way to keep themselves warm. They had nothing but the rags on their backs and each other.
As night fell, billions of stars began to shine in the sky. The children had never seen stars. They had lived in the depths of the city where the stars were crowded out by the smoke from the factories and the lights from the shining buildings. Each child picked a favorite star in the sky and began gazing at it. Some of the children had eyes as deep and dark as the heavens themselves. Some had eyes that were the brightest blue, even brighter than the mountain streams. Some had long chestnut hair that was as rich as the forest with trees. Some had short blond hair that shot out like the rays of the stars.
As the night grew colder, they huddled closer to each other for warmth. They continued to gaze at their own favorite stars. The rays of light from the stars warmed them. The wild beasts of the forest began gathering around the wandering children. There were wild wolves, wild coyotes and wild dogs that had escaped from the city. They surrounded the children and began howling. The children were not afraid for their eyes were fixed on the stars in the heavens. The light that shined on them protected them from the beasts. The animals stopped their howling and began gazing at the children as the children were gazing at the stars. As the moon rose, the children fell fast asleep. The wolves, coyotes, and dogs normally roamed the mountains at night in search of prey but they too fell asleep in the strange light from the stars.
As the sun broke in the morning, the children found themselves dressed in furs inside a shelter with a crackling fire that was burning as if through the whole night to keep them warm. On the table for each child was a bowl. In the bowl for each child was warm steaming porridge. And, for each child was a chair. There was a place for the children with deep, dark eyes. There was a place for the children with sparkling, blue eyes. There was a place for the children with long chestnut hair and a place for those with short blond hair.
As they sat down to eat their breakfast, they looked up at the ceiling of their shelter. They looked through the ceiling to the sky above, as if to see the stars in the daylight. They all knew where their favorite stars were and wished they could remain in this shelter, with this clothing, in this warmth, with this food, forever.
Suddenly, they heard the sound of a helicopter. In fact, they heard the sounds of many helicopters. Outside the windows of their shelter they saw trucks and tanks and the machinery of war. They were terribly frightened.
But then, they remembered that these sights and sounds were only the horrors of the Past. They knew that the warmth of their shelter was the safety of the Present. They dreamed that they would soon be wandering among the stillness and peace of the Future.
The Wandering Children by C. Walker ©03