Snail & Boy

Passion and Peace

  One rainy day, Snail was slithering by, gliding on its favorite branch. Snail was really speeding along in snail terms, but still, Snail noticed that it was really slow compared to other animals.

  When you're as slow as a snail, time takes on a different dimension. Everything goes by peacefully. Sleep comes and goes peacefully, gradually, and slowly, like the changing of the seasons. Snail savored the hours and minutes, and did everything with care and purpose.

  Snail noticed how sometimes Boy watched Snail and its friends for hours, with a look of amazement on his face. As if he wanted to become one of them. As if he wanted to escape his times of pain, loneliness, and sadness, and enter the slow-paced realm of snails.

  Snail knew Boy was pondering the same questions as it was. Snail sensed that Boy couldn't really grasp why humans were waging war, destroying each other, and setting fire to plants and animals. Why couldn't they just live in peace?

  Boy sometimes cried, sitting by himself in the backyard. Snail could see how the pain was unbearable in Boy's small body. Snail wished it could reach out and alleviate Boy's suffering.

  Snail knew that Boy realized there would never be real peace as long as humans were at war with each other, as long as humans were not aware of the fact that there is interdependence between all living beings.

  Boy knew that man possessed the depths of evil and the heights of compassion. It was the same evil that took away Boy's family. It was the same compassion Boy remembered from his mother and that he had discovered in himself, which made life worth living.

  Boy knew that there is a choice to be made by each and every one of us. A choice no one can take away. Boy had chosen a life of compassion. It was Boy's passion to live with compassion and peace. Snail knew it had found yet another one of Boy's secrets:

  Live life with purpose, compassion, and passion.

  ABC's

  Snail was just coming to the end curve of the letter "J," when it noticed that Boy was standing in complete and utter awe. Boy looked at the beautiful silvery "J," sparkling in the sun, and then looked back at Snail in disbelief. The hidden wall behind the bushes at the far end of the orphanage yard was full of silvery sparkly letters, words, and even complete sentences. Boy had discovered Snail's ability to write.

  From then on Boy would meet Snail at the wall with colored chalk, and he would outline Snail's writing and also create his own writing. Together they created a dazzling display of colorful words and artwork. This was now their mutual secret, and both took great comfort in each other's company.

  With time, Boy found that he could read Snail's thoughts and didn't have to wait for Snail to convey them in writing. Looking at Boy and Snail, one would think Boy was talking to himself. But what was really happening was a lively telepathic conversation between Snail and Boy.

  "It's amazing," Boy said to Snail. "Oral and written words have energy and are a great form of expression. I mean, they are one of the pillars of communication. If you could not understand words, you would be missing out on so many things. Words allow us to learn of our past and are a doorway to the future, too."

  "Yes," said Snail, "and a collection of words formed together creates a story that can captivate a reader. And words create understanding and awareness."

  "Yes," said Boy, "a written word is far more than a mark. It is like a vessel that carries in it the reality of your innermost thoughts, and even the soul itself. Words are one of the most powerful things in the universe, and they can contain faith or fear. They are potent weapons that can be used for good or bad causes." Boy thought for a minute. "I think words have more power than loaded guns when it comes to a revolution."

  "A revolution?" asked Snail. "Are you thinking of a revolution?"

  Boy gently lifted Snail into the palms of his hands and said, "Yes, this world needs a revolution. War is obsolete, and we must learn to live in peace. It's amazing what you can do with words on paper. Empires and temples fall, but wise words endure. And you know what, Snail? I think that all those powerful generals and dictators and corrupt leaders surrounded by their armies are terrified of words and thoughts. I mean, they put poets in jail; can you believe that? And I think people are thirsty for words of change, for a better world."

  Snail arched its neck and said, "Yes, you are right. And one of the hardest things in life is having words in your heart that you can't express."

  "Well," said Boy, "you are one of the lucky ones. You certainly have a great gift of expressing yourself."

  The Apple Tree

  "Take time to sit under a tree. Know that you are part of nature. It's amazing when you think about it."

  --- Snail

  In the orchard beyond the orphanage yard was an apple tree. Boy carefully took Snail in the palm of his hand, walked over past the last line of high trees, and entered the orchard.

  Boy plucked himself a ripe apple, sat down, and leaned against the apple tree. Boy bit off a peace of the apple for Snail to munch on as he sat Snail on his lap.

  "Yummy, I love apples," Snail said. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome," said Boy.

  Snail and Boy liked to take time to sit in nature, and the apple tree was one of their favorite places.

  Seasons came and went, and by now Boy was 15. The world around Boy and Snail was stagnant and tense, but sporadic fighting broke out every once in a while, with bombardments and casualties on both sides. The news was full of headlines about it, and everyone was speculating what would become of this grave situation. There was talk about recruiting some of the older boys at the orphanage into the army.

  "If my time comes, there is no way I'm going to be recruited," Boy said to Snail. "I'd rather sit in jail than enlist in the army."

  "Well, you can always play it dumb," said Snail. "Act like you’re some kind of basket case, and they’ll probably discharge you from military service."

  "Not my style. I'm true to who I am, no pretenses," said Boy.

  "Have it your way," said Snail.

  Boy took a bite of the lush, juicy apple. Apple juice ran down his cheeks, and he quickly wiped it with his shirtsleeve. It was peaceful. Snail and Boy could hear the chirping birds, could feel the gentle breeze and the soft sunshine on them. A line of diligent ants were marching by about a foot away from Boy’s feet. Boy munched away at the juicy apple and then hit the apple's core with his tooth, and felt a bitter seed in his mouth. He spit it out. Boy watched the apple seed as it flew through the air and landed on the soft ground without making a sound. He then placed the apple core next to the line of ants.

  "Here you go ants. Maybe you'd like a delicious apple?" asked Boy.

  "You know," said Boy, "the apple gives us its fruit freely, and when we taste the bitter seed, we spit it out immediately, and then the seed and the rest of nature start to cooperate. A new life is created as the seed starts to germinate with the help of the soil, sun, rain, and air. In time, the seed becomes an apple tree, with numerous apples and even more seeds. The apple tree then gives back to nature and shares its bountiful fruit. And so goes the cycle of mutual creation time and time again. The apple tree is part of nature, and nature is part of the apple tree.

  And when offering its fruit, the apple tree does not discriminate between human and animal, man and woman, young and old. The color of your skin is of no importance to the apple tree. All are equal, and all receive.

  If you climb a mountain, it does not judge you by who you are. Just like it doesn't judge the mountain goat or the wind, which are parts of nature, just like you are or I am. All are equal, and all are accepted.

  But humans, unlike the apple tree, claim the right of domination over the rest of nature. Yet the Earth is a community, where no one species is inferior or superior. When we are born, we become part of nature. And without nature, humans could not live. I live because of my parents, and the worms in the ground, the air, the birds, the fish, the soil, and the sun. Every part of nature is playing a role in this intricate, balanced cycle of l
ife and death. Humans are not separate or above nature, but part of nature. Therefore, I have immense gratitude for nature. You see, Snail, it may be hard to grasp, but you live in part because of me, and I live in part because of you," said Boy.

  "Now isn't that something," said Snail, its mouth full of delicious apple. "Think of that very first breath a newborn infant takes, or a newborn baby elephant takes. All of planet earth, with its entire ecosystem, has facilitated in communion with the newborn's parents that very first breath of air."

  "Yes, it's amazing," said Boy. "I'm truly humbled by nature."

  Air

  As Boy was walking with Snail in his hand, he noticed his breath and thought to himself, "Breath in breath out, breath in breath out."

  "You know," Boy said to Snail, "the air that was once in your lungs is now in my lungs. And the air that was once in my lungs is now in your lungs."

  "That is very interesting," said Snail. "It's like we are all connected by the air that surrounds us."

  "Exactly," said Boy. "If I take care of the air and don't pollute it, I'm actually taking care not only of myself but of others, too. Now that's a good feeling, to know that we are interconnected. That we mean something to one another."

  "Yes," said Snail, "each one is special and unique in his or her own way, but at the most basic level we share the breath of life. Why, without air, we