Six thick, long ropes of licorice. I’ve never seen the like, and neither have the children. They can barely contain their excitement. The red one is strawberry, the green one apple, the blue one blueberry and so on. Five different children and six different licorice ropes. Excitement quickly turns to frustration, and the arguments begin. After all, who wants blueberry when cola is available? You have made a novice mistake there, mum. The children cannot be trusted with such a weighty choice as what flavour licorice to choose. Providing options has just caused a headache. Why didn’t you just make them all the same?
I ask Ruth why she didn’t just get six of one flavour. She gives me a look I know well and then replies.
“How boring.”
How much suffering is caused by having options? How much is caused by difference? I see things this way, you see them that way. These are my experiences, those are yours. My skin is this colour, and yours is that. We’re not the same, so we must be opposites. We’re different, so we must hate.
God, why didn’t you just make them all the same?
The glorious kaleidoscope of heaven. The wonderful taste explosion of the kingdom on this earth. What kind of parent doesn’t want her children exposed to new flavours? What kind of parent doesn’t want his children to learn to love good things, even if they are different?
“God, why isn’t everyone like me?” With that same look my wife has perfected, the Father replies:
“How boring.”
Love that!
Thanks Fiona.