A Lesson in Humanity

There is a moving scene in Season 2, Episode 12, of The Handmaid's Tale. And there aren't a lot of them in this series.

Two young people in the camp--a girl, in a loveless marriage to Commander Waterford's driver, and a young man, a worker within the Republic of Gilead-- attempt to run off and experience love as best they can.

But they are found and brought back to face execution, the punishment in the totalitarian state for both adultery and escape.

They are taken to an Olympic size swimming pool on the grounds. All the Handmaids, the "Aunts," staff and others fill the bleachers inside as though it's some kind of sporting event.

The couple each have their hands shackled and each is linked to their own heavy steel ball and chain. As often happens in The Handmaid's Tale, scripture is dramatically read and misused to justify their deaths.

They are then thrown into the deep end of the pool and drowned. The camera pans the bleachers where the Handmaids are sobbing, and included with them is Serena Joy, Commander Waterford's wife. Tears are streaming her face and she is trembling with sorrow at what she has been forced to see.

Afterward, struggling to mother the child her Handmaid Offred and the commander conceived, Serena has a moment of humanity.

Up to this point, she has refused to allow Offred to see or touch the baby. But on her way to her room, Offred passes Serena's bedroom. The door is slightly open and she sees Serena pacing the floor, holding the child. Offred slowly walks into the room. The two women stare at each other both with tears in their eyes, still emotionally shattered by the execution of the young couple. Offred quietly sits in a chair, and in a stunning act of human warmth, Serena hands the baby to her.

There is a moment of tenderness between the women as Offred holds the child close and gently kisses her face. The emotion of the moment is overwhelming. And the episode ends.

Why did Serena allow herself, and Offred, this act of compassion? Previously, she had been hostile to and deeply resentful of Offred, even bitterly jealous of her. What changed?

Watching those two young people, who had only tried to find a little love together, be drowned in a public display of religious sacrilege and cruelty, forced Serena to her senses.

She realized, again, the madness of Gilead, the savageness of life in an oppressive, authoritarian state. Holding that sweet child completely disarmed her and broke down the barriers to all of her resistance to Offred.

There is something magical and mystical about a baby. They confront us with the Divine, with spirit and soul. They force open our conscience. They flood us with humility. They soften our sharpest edges.

Do we ever think of children today? What if we could take our focus off all the petty bickering and infighting, all the crass selfishness and ego, all the meanness and cruelty, and hold a child in our arms? Just for a little while.

Might we then become aware of our humanity and be kind to one another again.

If I had five minutes to evacuate--what would I take with me?

If I was told there was a bomb in my building and I had five minutes to evacuate my apartment I’d grab a grocery bag and quickly toss these items into it: 1. A photo of my grandparents, Mom and Pop and me, when I was 15 years old. I learned what love is made of from them. I learned what it is to be kissed on and hugged in arms so tender they felt like God’s arms. I discovered self worth from those two angels in human flesh. Of all the people in my life, they were the ones who made me feel I counted. Honestly, whatever capacity I have to love others came from them. 2. A sentimental, dog-eared, stars in the margin copy of Pat Conroy’s, “The Prince of Tides.” It is a book I have read three times and often return to for its wisdom. It is a harsh, profoundly tragic novel, the story of a family so broken and tortured by such flawed and wounded people that it is sometimes difficult to turn the next page. And yet it is the story of such Herculean courage and endurance that you want...

I Saw the Delicacy of Life

I was flying Across the deep And I saw the delicacy Of life Wrinkles on the faces Of the old So pure they glistened Like awards The joy of children Running with abandon Their laughter ringing Like chimes in the wind I saw the soft moving waves Across the sea And the trees releasing Their rainbow leaves Birds joined me on my flight And I saw the surface of their wings Adorned with patterns Glorious and unfurled I saw the tears of the sad And the smiles of the glad The suffering in mourning And the celebration of birth As I descended toward the ground Slowly, slowly, softly I saw the gentle grass of the field And smelled the fresh earth It was a perfect landing © 2018 Timothy Moody

Actions Make a Difference

“We make progress in society only if we stop cursing and complaining about its shortcomings and have the courage to do something about them.” ~ Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, Physician/Author Pictured here is Kikuko Shinjo, 89 years old, a survivor of the Hiroshima atomic bomb blast. As a 17-year old nursing student she helped nurse victims of the carnage back to health. Many of them died in her care. She says she holds no grudge against America and encourages interaction between the Japanese and Americans. She has devoted her life to peace, saying, “I want all the people around the world to be friends, and I want to make my country peaceful without fighting.” Today she makes colorful paper cranes and donates them to the Children’s Peace Monument at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park.

The Unclad Soul

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