More storms are moving in. The Sun has hidden behind the clouds. Last night, there was golf ball-sized hail. A common occurrence in these halcyon years. We live on our little blue orb. Some work daily to discover new ways to torture and malign their fellow human beings. Rhetoric is beyond the pulp novel. As a member of the baby boom generation, what passes for political wisdom would be halted, and the perpetrators of the hate speech thrown out of office. I recall when a politician’s constituents were important to their re-election. The price of gas rose 20 cents overnight. A White House Ballroom is more important than suffering people.

Uncle Merl told me when I worked at the university, too, never tell anyone my political affiliation. I remembered the days when, if you were a member of the political party out of power, you would lose your civil service job. So now what? Suffering for the little folks is equal opportunity.

We, Quiet People, bide our time, we watch and wait. Our words never meant much. Others took the stage and the microphone. Our betters admonished us to not forget our place. Don’t rock the boat my colleague told me when I began working at the university. Remember your retirement. Quiet folks understand that it is the elite and the vociferous speakers who rule the world. Often, they display a profound stultifying ignorance. I was brought up to never say a person was ignorant or said stupid things.
These are the days that try our souls.

A sadness is the coopting of faith in the Halloween costume of Christianity. Wolves dress in sheep’s clothing…that does not fit very well, and if you look reveals who they are. The seams are ill-sewn. The sheep’s mask has white fur falling off.

We introverts abhor conflict. We want to get along. We seek neither the limelight nor the spotlight. We are happy not to be noticed. But, not being noticed does not negate our noticing. We see when people are not being treated justly. Justice is not just for the elites. The promise of the Bible is for all. Those who have money and those who have none. The silver-tongued orator and the Quiet Person in the back of the church. Smooth speech is not the truth in itself. Repetition of a lie does not transubstantiate it into the truth. Deeds speak for themselves.

The Quiet People have arisen from their comfortable position. Fairness and truth are important. The homeless girl sits outside the Broadway Theatre, both afraid to call her parents and terrified to remain homeless. She seeks a kind face in her silence. It seems she is viewed as a transaction rather than a human. She wonders if anyone hears her silent cry. Does anyone see her suffering or her youth…the perversion of morality to allow her to remain on the streets of New York?