Daily Reflection, November 18, 2024

Reflection:

This happened to me quite a few years ago. Perhaps you have heard me tell it. I tell it often, because it’s true. True in fact, and true in life

When I was a kid, like every kid who’s ever turned on a TV set, I always had a dream to go to Disneyland. Watching the Wonderful World of Disney, I always aspired to have a Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah day. Disneyland is the place of eternal youth. Where not even Walt has passed away, he merely waits in suspended animation.

Some twenty-five years ago, I had the opportunity to visit. I was spending three months volunteering in St Bonaventure School, on the Navajo Nation at Thoreau, NM. That was a profound experience.

So, before I went to the school, I did the obligatory trip to Disneyland. There were any number or rides, but there was one ride that caught my attention, the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. It was a mini roller-coaster and was set up like a runaway train. The first carriage was the engine, and we were all the hapless and helpless passengers stuck on this train.

I am addicted to roller coasters, the scarier the better. I have a saying, “If you aren’t scared enough, you aren’t having enough fun.” And there is no point being on a roller coaster if you aren’t in the front seat.

There was a bit of a queue, but eventually I got the front seat. I had pushed aside the two Japanese tourists, the little kiddie in the wheelchair, but I got the front seat. Next to me sat a guy, who was around my age.

The ride started off and I was determined to make the most of it. I had spent my whole life waiting for this moment. I screamed, I waved, I yahoo-ed, and all the while, the guy next to me never made a sound. In fact, he never looked up. He spent the entire ride, looking at the floor of the carriage. The man’s paid for his ticket on the ride, he’s entitled to do what he likes with the ride, but he wasn’t enjoying it one bit. At the end, he got off. He never smiled. I watched him as he walked away, slumped. There wasn’t one bone of happiness in his body. I don’t know whatever else happened to that man that day, but I couldn’t help but think that in a place of such happiness and joy, that that man could find none.

I suppose when all is said and done, we are all as happy, or as unhappy, as we choose to be.

At the end of the day, I was waiting on one of the thoroughfares in Disneyland called Main Street USA. There was a parade that was to start. I stood there, sipping some coffee, waiting for the parade. I looked across the other side of Main Street USA, perhaps five metres away, and I noticed a family. There was Mum and Dad, and two girls, aged about 8 and 12. And the 12-year-old girl was blind.

I watched her, not pitying her, but just thinking that all of the beautiful experiences I take for granted most every day, she would never see.

The Parade started, and at the front of the Parade were Mickey and Minnie Mouse, driving a little car. Well Mickey was driving; Minnie was giving directions.

They saw this girl, too, because they stopped the car, and Mickey Mouse got out, and walked over to the girl. Obviously, I couldn’t hear what was said, but while Mickey chatted to her, the most beautiful smile came over her face. It was a look of total and profound joy.

While I thought about what was missing in her life, all she could think about was what she had. She lived for the joy of that moment. And I gave thanks for her parents who had instilled such joy and wonder in that young girl’s life.

In that place of joy, I met one man who could see everything, but experience nothing.

And I saw a young girl who could see nothing, but experience everything.

Peter Gardiner is a Passionist Priest.