I find myself situated in an old room, that I once knew. In front of me is a spread of sinks. All shiny and white. Behind the sinks, rests a mirror. Mirror mirror on the wall. And in the mirror I see myself.
In the mirror I see me. Or something like myself, my beard had greyed significantly and my hair has thinned. Deep etchings surround my eyes, marks that remind me of my histories, that I’ve ignored. The darkness.
As I examine my withered hands, I sense a presence closing in. A young lad, I perceive by the thump, thump, thumping of his young heart. And it’s beating fast. He must be terrified!
“I will calm his fears when he enters.”
Slowly the door creaks open, and his young face peers in. To my astonishment the little critter very much resembles me as a child.
This is me…
Quietly he enters the room, as if to sneak by. But in great joy I holler out, “Hello there son!” Perhaps a little loudly.
He glimpses my way and croaks, “Uh hello.” And quickly turns away.
But I’m not finished, “How are you DOING?”
“I’m fine.” comes the quiet response.
“Are you sure? Have you tidied your room right? And have you tried VEGAN food?! If you would, you would feel much better!”
“Oh, I think so,” he stammers, as he hurrys toward the urinal.
I smile. I’ve helped another young lad. And with that I open the door, and walk into church.
-.     -.     –
But if we visit the boy. He’s not smiling. He’s not urinating either. He stares at the nice white wall.
Sadness.
Because he longs to understand the old man. But he doesn’t know how.
Of only one thing he is sure, this drive-by-shooting type of technique doesn’t help anybody. And also, he knows, that someday he will do the same.
This is an endless circle.

This terrifies the little boy…