 ¯ “Last night I had the strangest dream I ever dreamed before; I dreamed the world had all agreed to put an end to war…” ¯
What I thought was a children’s song from the 1980s, I now discover was written, not for children, but as a ‘peace movement’ song, written in 1950 by American song writer, Ed McCurdy. I first found it in a children’s song book and taught it to nearly 100 small children in the school where I was teaching in the late 1980s. I had not heard it sung before and so put my interpretation to the music. It is only recently that I have heard it (via YouTube), sung by the likes of Pete Seeger, Simon and Garfunkel and Johnny Cash. Although the same song, it sounds a little different from the one the children sang and (especially Pete Seeger’s version) is sometimes in an almost rollicking, hillbilly style and sounds even a bit ‘twee’. I have to say that I preferred the way my choir of children sang it many years ago. But I am getting off the track of what I wished to say, which was that the song needs reviving - and reviving in a BIG way. When it was first written, World War 2 had only ended five years before. When the likes of Johnny Cash performed it, it was as comment on the state of the awful Vietnam war of the 1960s and 70s. And, here we are now with the most horrendous wars and terrorism known to man proliferating across the globe. We are in the throes of anger and hate overload, but it seems that, as long as humans are on Earth, they (we?) will never learn that war is pointless. I’m convinced that the majority of people agree with the sentiments portrayed in the little song and I (and most others) know that the way to live in harmony is not to fight but to submerge ourselves in kindness towards others. LOVE IS ALL THAT MATTERS. When will we learn? ‘Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired signifies, in the final sense, a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and not clothed. This world in arms is not spending money alone. It is spending the sweat of its laborers, the genius of its scientists, the hopes of its children. This is not a way of life at all in any true sense. Under the cloud of threatening war, it is humanity hanging from a cross of iron.’ (Dwight D. Eisenhower, From a speech before the American Society of Newspaper Editors, April 16, 1953) Last night I had the strangest dream I ever dreamed before I dreamed the world had all agreed To put an end to war. I dreamed I saw a mighty room The room was filled with men And the paper they were signing said They'd never fight again. And when the papers all were signed And a million copies made They all joined hands end bowed their heads And grateful prayers were prayed. And the people in the streets below Were dancing round and round And guns and swords and uniforms Were scattered on the ground. Last night I had the strangest dream I ever dreamed before I dreamed the world had all agreed To put an end to war. Ed McCurdy. (1950)
0 Comments
 Here’s a true story:
A friend of mine (a 70+ year-old grandmother – whom I’ll call Mary) corresponded for a while with an asylum seeker (whom I’ll refer to as Dishi) and was finally permitted to visit him in a detention centre – after she had ‘been approved’, and her identity proven. Mary arrived at the detention centre in her small car and, after consulting with officials, she met Dishi, the young man she had come to see; discovering a friendly, warm and intelligent young man who was still able to smile despite his predicament. Mary inquired of detention centre staff if she could take Dishi out for a short drive. The answer was ‘No’ but if she allows a (later) more extensive ‘interview’ where officials can verify Mary’s identity further and check her credentials, she may be allowed (one day) to take Dishi out of the detention centre for a short drive BUT she (they) must also take a detention centre officer with them. If Mary’s interviewer is not perfectly satisfied with her motives and character, but almost satisfied, she will be allowed to take Dishi out, BUT will have to include TWO officers on the drive. (Mary drives a small car). This poor man, Dishi, who came to Australia FIVE YEARS AGO is a genuine refugee who has done nothing wrong. He was fleeing chaos and hoping to find a job in Australia to enable him to subsequently bring his parents here to live safely. So far, Dishi has lived (half-lived) in HUTS, behind wire, in detention centres on Christmas Island and in three different states in mainland Australia. The processing of Dishi's refugee application - and of so many other asylum seekers - does not seem to be happening. How much is the housing (HOUSING? they’re not houses!), feeding and transporting of these poor people costing the government? I may be naïve, but surely it would be more economical to resolve how to effectively process applications and sort out the (so called) non-genuine from the genuine refugees and put a stop to what in my mind is the torturing of our fellow human beings. FACTS: Asylum seekers who arrive in Australia by boat are neither engaging in illegal activity, nor are they immigrants The UN Refugee Convention (to which Australia is a signatory) recognises that refugees have a right to enter a country for the purposes of seeking asylum, regardless of how they arrive or whether they hold valid travel or identity documents.  There are times when we are able to choose between being kind or being dismissive or rude - even cruel.
During our life times we retain memories of times when people have been cruel or unpleasant towards us and those times can often fester and become troublesome recollections that are difficult to erase. But memories of times when people have shown kindness, often unexpectedly, are the memories that we can treasure; they are the memories (to coin a phrase) that ‘warm our hearts’. These two differing memories – of kindness and indifference (or cruelty) are commonly experienced in childhood, when our learning blocks are the experiences we have on a day-to-day basis. When we, as adults, come across a situation where we feel we can either offer some kindly words or alternately blurt out a sarcastic or hurtful comment, it is perhaps wise to keep in mind our childhood experiences and, even when dealing with adults, choose the kindness path. The same goes for actions. I hold memories of a cruel and nasty teacher in whose class I spent a year at the age of eight or nine. So many decades have passed since then, but I am unable to get the unpleasant ‘taste’ of her words and actions out of my memory bank. The mere thought of her can make me shudder. And yet, I also possess memories of times when people have shown remarkable kindness towards me and those memories do, indeed, ‘warm my heart’, even to the point of threatening to bring a tear of thankfulness to my eye! I have been reading Anne Manne’s small memoir, “So This is Life” in which she tells a little story of how a woman offered kindly advice to her and her sisters, when the advice could have easily been dished out in a disparaging and quite scathing tone. It is a memory that Anne holds dear, while also accepting that the woman involved probably didn’t even give her comments a second thought. That’s how easy it is! I am not hopping on the “Random Acts of Kindness” wagon, that has reached plague proportions so much so that it is almost losing its relevance. However, I am trying to promote the idea that we should remember the times we experienced kindness as a young person and how it affected us. And that, as grown-ups, nothing much has changed: We still thrive on kind words and deeds and shrivel up when we receive the opposite. |
