I See All Of Them.

And They Are Beginning To Realize That The World They Live In Is A Place Where The Right Thing Is Often Hard, Sometimes Dangerous, And Frequently Unpopular.

He Hunched His Shoulders And Tried To Make Himself Smaller In The Seat. He Wanted To Disappear, To Fade Away, Not To Exist.

She Was The Only Doctor's Wife In Branford, Maine, Who Hung Her Wash On An Outdoor Clothesline Instead Of Putting It Through A Dryer, Because She Liked To Look Out The Window And See The Clothes Blowing In The Wind. She Had Been Especially Delighted, One Day, When One Sleeve Of The Top Of Her Husband's Pajamas, Prodded By The Stiff Breeze Off The Bay, Reached Over And Grabbed Her Nightgown Around The Waist.

Our People Made That Choice, The Choice To Go To Sameness. Before My Time, Before The Previous Time, Back And Back And Back. We Relinquished Color When We Relinquished Sunshine And Did Away With Difference. We Gained Control Of Many Things. But We Had To Let Go Of Others.

Sometimes I Wish They'd Ask For My Wisdom More Often - There Are So Many Things I Could Tell Them; Things I Wish They Would Change. But They Don't Want Change. Life Here Is So Orderly, So Predictable - So Painless. It's What They've Chosen.