Sometimes I Feel Like I Live on a Deserted Island


Sometimes I feel like I live on a deserted island

Alone- forgotten, foreign, forlorn

There used to be people here with me, but now they are gone. Likely off to the mainland to be like everyone else

I myself have been to the mainland, and my eyes ware drunk with its beauty. The people there are always in a hurry, but every 7th day and first day, they eat, and drink, and dance together. Their ways are sophisticated and their work intricate, utterly fascinating.

Impressed as I was and willing to learn their ways, they did not want me. They said, “Who are you, stranger? You look like us. You have two eyes and a nose and a mouth, and even your clothes are similar. But there is something different In the way you move about, in the way your speak, in the way that your eyes dart about. Your ways are unfamiliar and strange.”

“Go back to where you came from. Sail back to your island. You will be more comfortable there, for certain. We don’t want to be cruel, but we simply can’t have your kind here. You may seek to intermarry with us, spreading your weak genes.”

And so, tears in my eyes, I set sail for my island. I was glad to return to the old place. Lonely as it was, it was at least comfortable and familiar, not sinister and exclusive like the foreign land. But all too soon, my heart yearned again for the excitement and glamor.

Just as I was about to leave once again, I saw something in the distance, ships sailing towards me! Visitors! I caught juicy fish and burned them for maximum savor, and gathered my choicest treasures to welcome them. In the back of my mind, though, I feared they were not friendly.

I was wrong. They called themselves missionaries, summoned to sail and preach by none other than the Almighty God. They were friendly and warm, and I believed every word they told me. They very much appreciated my food and gifts, and even reciprocated with treasures from the mainland.

Sadly, though, we had to part. A tearful farewell it was. I had so fallen in love with their God and their ways. But on my island, my home, I was to stay, and to the mainland, their home, they would return. Good times we had together, but I was once again all on my own.

It broke my heart to think about how I would never get to eat, and drink and dance with them on the 1st and 7th days. Never to experience that beauty again, but banished to my island. What had I ever done wrong? So I cried there on the sand.

“Why are you crying?” said a voice from heaven, “I’m here with you now.” “But they’re all gone,” I said. “Aren’t I enough for you? Do you really still count yourself as solitary? I will never leave you. Island or mainland, I am always here for  you. I love you and I think your genes are just fine.”


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