Moving Border Stones

A Belgian farmer recently inadvertently moved the border between Belgium and France by 2.29 meters. He decided to move a large stone that was blocking his path while plowing his field. The stone had been there since 1819 and was a border marker between the two countries.

I wonder how often my seemingly small actions “move borders” around me. How many of my kind words or friendly smiles or gracious helping gestures have helped move the borders between trust and mistrust in people I have met. How have my moments of impatience or indifference increased the size of the kingdom of selfishness and decreased that of love in the lives of others?

I remember one incidence when I was 4 or 5 years old. My brothers and I had been temporarily placed in foster homes. Just before Christmas, I was brought to a big hall full of strangers. At one end of the hall was a stage on which stood a man with a large bag. Children in the room were called up one by one on stage and given a toy pulled out of the bag. When my name was called, I went up reluctantly. The strange Santa greeted me, not with the comforting smile that I needed, but with a look that made me feel even more uncomfortable. I was too small at the time to give a name to that look but later would know it as “pity”.  The “gift” was a shiny new red fire truck that I would have normally loved to play with, but that I soon discarded because it made me feel empty inside.

That one little incidence considerably displaced a border for me: that between my feeling comfortable in a crowd and sometimes having the urge to flee when there are too many people around me.  When I think of that “Santa”, I also often remember the words of Jesus on the cross, “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”