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And God Spoke
By Gary Sorkin
It was my 50th birthday. It really seemed like "no big deal," when I woke up that December morning. My wife, who was to soon become my ex-wife and my kids were sleeping. Schoolteachers and kids are always off this time of year. I looked out the window, there was no snow on the ground, it was not raining, and it seemed kind of mild out there in the world.
I went quietly down the steps to the kitchen, being careful not to wake anyone from their morning sleep. I put up coffee for one. I sat in the den reading the morning newspaper; there was not one word of my birthday. It was just a usual Thursday morning. It was quiet, no birds chirping this time of year, a squirrel scampered up a tree and found his home, no leaves falling off their barren branches. It was kind of mild. The grayness of the day was making way for a bit of winter sun that was struggling to shine through the haze.
I dressed quietly, still being careful to let the sleeping stay asleep. I decided to take a walk. I stood on my front porch and took a deep breath. Something was in the air.
I had lived for one half of a century. What did I have to show for it?
I lived on a suburban street that was lined with one-family houses with trees and wilted winter shrubbery and weather beaten siding. I began my slow walk around the block. Each step made me reflect on my half a century.
Where was I in this journey of life? What had happened in the fifty years since I was slapped into this world? Where had it gone? Where were my old friends? Where were my old loves? Where was my trim body and my black hair?
No easy answers
I wanted to come up with answers. After all, fifty years is a milestone. No easy answers came. Instead, I grappled with a writing problem. Something that has had me "blocked" for awhile. I was writing a screenplay called, "Once More From The Top." A Monty Python-ish script about life in a dismal future. God comes down through a "Ray of golden sunshine," and says the words that will save a dying mankind. Someone had to.
I was lost. What would God say? What should I write? How can I save mankind? Quite a chore. After all, I am only fifty.
It was getting windy this December morning, and my mind was churning. What would he/she say? I looked at a house. It was on a hill. The wind picked up. Suddenly, like a bolt of lightening, God's words came to me. He/she would walk down (in a form you will just have to see the movie to believe) this golden staircase and would open his/or her mouth..and SING the most beautiful words ever heard:
"LOVE IS A MANY SPLENDORED THING,
IT'S THE APRIL ROSE THAT ONLY GROWS IN THE EARLY SPRING.
IT IS NATURE'S WAY OF GIVING A REASON TO BE LIVING,
A GOLDEN CROWN THAT MAKES A MAN A KING.
ONCE ON A HIGH AND WINDY HILL, IN THE MORNING MIDST,
TWO LOVERS KISSED AND THE WORLD STOOD STILL.
AND YOUR FINGERS TOUCHED MY SILENT HEART AND TAUGHT IT HOW TO SING.
YES, TRUE LOVE IS A MANY SPLENDORD THING."
And then after God sang - the world Took It Once More From The Top.
I sang this song as I walked around the block. I sang it loud and clear. I didn't care who heard me. I sang it over and over. I knew I had the answer - the answer not to my screenplay, but to my life, and perhaps to all of life.
When I reached my home, my family greeted me with a "happy birthday." They asked me how was my walk?
I said, "It was splendored, just splendored."
God had told me what to say. God had spoke…or sang.
LOVE is the answer.
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