I haven't been talking much over the last week. I've been spending a lot of time inside myself, taking in the world, enjoying the beauty of spring. I am not scheduled for anything right now except for writing a personal philosophy essay about the study of history as it relates to faith and reason. That's due in a week, and so I think I'll begin it tonight. Thursday after this one I will be driving to VA with two of my brothers to attend the PHC graduation.

Meanwhile, I've been pondering life, the world, and people. These are heavy things. In the past few weeks I have added a few more faces to the realm of my unforgettable memory. This bittersweet gallery holds pictures of people with sad or blank eyes. They include:

- Shannon, the beautiful teen daughter of a single mom, whom I witnessed turn from a happy, sparkly 13-year-old into a confused, embittered 16-year-old. She liked our loud, rambunctious family, and at the same time she tested us. Once she made me listen to a foul song to see my reaction. She asked my younger brother what he thought about girls. One time we saw her tenderly helping her grandmother through Wal-Mart, though she didn't see us. There is something so wistful about her... I have no idea where she is now. She haunts me, and I pray for her often.

- Heather, the friend who said she was a Christian but who didn't read her Bible. She always tried to get me to "loosen up." Once when I had just turned 18, she and some of her other friends (not mine) made me buy them a pack of cigarettes. After that, I never let them make me do something again. Some of the last words I heard from Heather, about her newfound lesbian relationship with a girl she had recently met: "God would never make me stop something this good!" Oh Heather, I think I failed you. May your memory keep me from failing anyone else.

- Jane, the terrified Catholic lady who grabbed my hand in a death grip and couldn't let go for the whole turbulent plane ride between enormous thunderheads one day when I was 17. I talked to her about God. The stern old man in the window seat reading his Hebrew book grunted disapprovingly at the foolish females, "There is no God." "There is," I said, "and He will make this turbulence decrease." It was a weak statement; I felt it. I could have said He would make the turbulence stop, but I didn't want to risk it. The turbulence did decrease, though, and we arrived safely. I'm glad the old man wasn't the only one next to Jane.

- Sarah, the Catholic girl I met on my three-week trip to Cambridge when we were both 17. She and I spent our time together because we were much more conservative than the rest. She became very homesick. She put henna streaks in her hair, and she pierced her ears a second time. Then she cried for the last several days of the trip and wouldn't talk to me. What should I have done?

- The lady in the National Cathedral whom I talked to one D.C. afternoon when we were both watching a "Sacred Circles" exhibit. Black-clothed women walked pensively around and through a circular maze printed on the ground. When they reached the middle, they sat crosslegged and stared upwards, in search of a rapturous experience. After a while, they stood up and walked out again, still looking lost. It made me so sad, and I knew God wanted me to do something. I talked to this middle-aged woman about Jesus. "We don't need to walk through a maze to find God," I said. "All we have to do is read the Bible and pray." I hope she listened. I don't know. I was just so glad that I had listened and for once had escaped the fear of unusual conversation.

- Sonya, the lady I met at the bloodmobile during the PHC blood drive. She was so sad. I told her I would pray for her, and she said, "Oh no, that's the worst thing you could do!" "No, it is the best thing," I replied. I met her again last weekend, because PHC was having another blood drive. She seemed much happier. I'm still praying.

This last weekend on the way to PHC, I sat in front of three young, 20-something businesspeople on the plane. They were talking superficially, and I was reading a book. Then the young woman pulled out some conversation-starter cards and began asking questions to the two men. At one point they caught my attention:
Man 1: Gala... Galapa...
Woman: Galapagos.
Man 1: Yes, those. You know, where that scientist discovered all those thousands of bird species.
(What? They don't know who Darwin was? And they weren't "thousands" of species. I'm all primed to turn around and jump into a discussion of macro vs. microevolution, but they continue on.)
Man 2: Which scientist was that anyway? Newton?
Woman: No, I don't think so. Newton was gravity. I'm sure he didn't go to the Galapagos Islands.
a little later...
Woman (reading from card): "If the cashier at the grocery store gave you an extra $10 in change by mistake and you noticed as you were walking out of the store, what would you do?"
Man 2 (laughing): I'd keep it!
Woman and Man 1: Oooh, that's cold!
Man 2: Seriously, I'd keep it and spend it. They probably don't need it anyway.
Woman and Man 1: *say nothing*
a little later...
Woman (reading): "What is your favorite book?"
Man 1: I don't read books.
Woman: Oh, c'mon. What is a book you liked when you were younger?
Man 1: *silence*
Woman: Have you ever read a book?
Man 1: *obviously fumbling* Well, I think I liked that book 1982.
Woman: 1984?
Man 1: Yeah, that one.
Woman: OK.
(That's the only title you could think of, isn't it? I'll bet neither of you have read that book!)
a little later...
Woman (reading): "If you know you only had one day to live, how would you use it?"
Man 2: I'd spend all my money and throw a tremendous party.
Woman: Aww, c'mon. You'd have to visit your family and friends!
I know I have to speak up. My internal pressure is building. I'll feel like a loser if I don't. Lord, give me the words! I poke my head over the back of my chair.
Me: Let's make it even deeper. What happens next?
Man 2 is unshaven and overweight. His eyes meet mine for a second and then slide away.
Man 2: What do you mean?
Me: What happens after your last day? What do you believe?
Man 2: *short laugh* I'll be gone. There's nothing.
(Well, that's definitely consistent with everything I've heard in this conversation.)
Me: Really? Sounds uncomfortable.
I turn back around and sit down again.
Man 1 (quietly): I don't know; there's got to be a tunnel and a light or something.
It is ten minutes until we land, and they say scarcely anything the rest of the way down. I look like I am reading my book, but really I am praying. Those three young people managed to escape school and enter the business world without knowing hardly anything! How are they to be reached? I know I said what I was supposed to say for this point in time, but they make me sad.

So many people...  ¶ 10:11 AM