Our Stories
Hubert
By Stew | posted 11/12/2009
"Now, my son, listen carefully and do what I tell you" (Genesis 27:8)
If you ask me if you should forgive a friend for something unforgivable, I will recall when I was about seven years old and told my best friend, after some minor dispute, that I didn't want to ever talk to him again. Within a short while I regretted my action, and the next day reconciled with him. To this day, I can say I have regretted nearly all other such similar rash acts. So that would be my advice to you.
Now this doesn't mean I was right in my decision, just that I've dealt with this particular experience, and this is how I dealt with it, and in retrospect, I think I did the right thing. You should mentally try out my situation and my reasoning for yourself and see how it applies to your situation. That's my advice.
As you get older, it gets easier to see the wisdom in this advice on advice. When you're young it's too easy to make decisions with little input from others, and then to believe that you've made good decisions because the long-term consequences of your decisions have yet to wipe away your clueless grin as you enflame your wings circling the sun.
As young people mature and face situations similar to the ones their parents faced, they begin to realize that parents are like scouts, who live out in front of their children and experience what their children will experience later on, maybe 20 or 25 years later. Parents take a lot of arrows in the back, and some front on, and some from the sides too. Sometimes, sadly, the arrow-strewn bodies of parents ambushed in the gulch are the best lessons ever given to children. No words necessary.
I guess all I'm saying is that listening to and learning from what people have experienced in the past from experiences similar to your own is important. And finding people who've experienced situations similar to ones you are now in – parenting, working, playing – is useful in helping you make decisions about the future.
Which brings me to Hubert. If you're like me, you can't trace your family tree back farther than Kansas or Arkansas. (Did you know that after the flood, Noah's ark landed on top of Mt. Kansas, and that's why it's called Arkansas?) Occasionally, I'll hear a tale of my ancestors and wonder about its meaning. For example, consider a young man named Hubert, a great-great cousin of mine, who used to work in the fields of Kansas (where there are no hills, let alone mountains). One clear Kansas day, while working alone cutting hay, Hubert was atop a large haystack when a rogue thundercloud appeared from out of nowhere and - BOOM! - a bolt of lightning struck him dead. That's the story. That's all I know about Hubert.
As the result of hearing this story, I'm now a bit more careful about lightning than I used to be. Maybe you will be too. Maybe you'll quicken your step to get inside as quickly as possible after hearing thunder. Fine. But the point of the story isn't about thunder or lightning. It's about how quickly-on this earth-life can end; how alone you are when it happens, and how quickly you can be forgotten.
There's another similar story about a guy who is arguably part of my family tree, just like Hubert. He also had a short life, and was all alone when he died. The lesson of his life was that he died for a reason, and because of that he is still remembered. He went through some experiences from which we can all learn a lot of lessons. His life drew on the lessons of many before him, but he and the many before him drew on the advice of the oldest of them all, a really creative guy I'm told.
It would be good if all these lessons and experiences were brought together in one place, maybe a big fat book of stories. Then people could read about our ancestors' experiences and what remnant of their wisdom can be gleaned by those who are so full of it today. I, for one, would kind of like to hear what Hubert and some of these other guys would have to say.
Now maybe, if you're an independent-minded sort who likes to think things out for yourself without help from anyone, you wouldn't want to read any of these stories. But my advice, and maybe Hubert's too, would be to sit back in the old hay stack, and read some of these stories to see how they apply to your own life. With luck, a special kind of lightning may strike it.
Stew can be reached via email here.
