One Day Of Peace

Kathie Gibboney

There is an old hollowed tree on Valley Road that I would walk by when escorting my children to Children’s Corner Pre-School (where I also worked as a teacher). On the tree, a warning is carved that is weathered but still legible. It reads, “This Property Patrolled by Shotgun Law.” I’m not sure which property it alludes to, as the tree stands sentry overlooking nothing but a creek bed. Perhaps it was part of a settlement no longer in existence, or maybe it is somehow associated with a house still standing, now, hopefully, of a more welcoming nature. The threat of the words always disturbed me.

I know that there was a pioneer spirit to the early families who settled in Topanga, that they had a strong individualism and that, in the early days of unincorporated city control, they probably did not welcome government interference, especially those assessing taxes. The romantic in me likes to think maybe there was a hidden still on the property producing Topanga’s very own Mountain Dew, Fire Creek Water, or what today might be known as Flying Pig Pookapoo Juice. I wouldn’t mind sampling just a sip of this juice, for medicinal purposes, of course.  

The protection of a still aside, I do not like the words for the same reason that something in me does not like a wall. When guiding young children, there is a fine balance between allowing those children to find their own way, make their own decisions, and solve their own problems, as well as a desire to introduce the utopian concepts of the world in which one would like to live. At the pre-school, I’d offer such sage advise as, “Let’s share the bike!” or the ever popular, “Everyone will get a turn.” The earth-shattering wisdom of, “Only take as many crackers as you need,” and perhaps my personal favorite, “Doesn’t it feel good to do something nice for someone,” would pepper my storytelling with questions of, “How to solve the problem of the scary dragon?” Hoping to hear someone land on the heartfelt, joyous, and obvious answer, “Make friends with it!”, I’d be met with “Shoot him with a gun!”

My simple homilies were in such direct dichotomy to the words on the tree, that I came to resent its presence and tried not to look when passing by, but a feeling of being mocked followed me. I even thought of sneaking over one dark night with a bucket of paint and covering up the words. On the other hand, though, they seemed part of historical Topanga, and you can’t paint out guns.

In light (shouldn’t it be darkness?) of the recent shootings in Florida, I am reminded of the tree and its credo. Yes, I know the Second Amendment’s purpose is to grant the populace freedom to arm against a government gone mad, an insane dictator, or the horrible rhetoric and agenda of false profits with armies and bad uniforms. Such things have happened in the past, but can’t the instruments of mass carnage be safely stored away somewhere until such time as the populace is in true need, such as when the ?Walking? Dead finally show up? Obviously, the prevalent availability of such weapons has proven tragic in the ever-increasing hands of those maimed emotionally, mentally, and morally. Cannot the NRA, who must accept some responsibility, help to develop a solution? Cannot an arrangement be made where they are assured of their rights but recognize those rights come at a price, which is that if you think you can keep people safe by giving them guns, you must also keep them safe from guns?

From time to time, I think about an essay created in a Sunday School Class I taught. We were invited to write an entry for The World Peace Rose contest. I know it’s naïve, and I know it’s elementary and childish, but because the young girls in the class were not yet jaded and cynical, there is a purity to the idea, and it comforts me.

AN IDEA AS AN ESSAY

On a Sunday, while in the Junior Girl’s Class at Self Realization Fellowship, Lake Shrine, we talked about peace. There was going to be a contest and awards were going to be given for the best essay. Our class didn’t care so much about winning an award, although awards are nice, but we did care about peace. We talked about what peace means. We used words like compassion and love. We spoke about things that weren’t peaceful, like fighting with friends or siblings. We talked about war and heard a story about some children fighting over a lake that both sides claimed as their own. The two sides threw frogs at each other, and in the end, all the frogs were killed or injured, and the kids felt bad. From then on, the lake never had frogs living in it any more. It was sad.

We live in the Los Angeles area. Many of us live in peaceful communities, but we know the city is big and violence goes on every day, sort of like people throwing frogs at each other, except that they shoot guns, so the frogs become bullets. We want the bullets to stop.

ONE DAY OF PEACE

The concept is that, just for one day, the city is free of violence and hate. On that one day no one fights or robs or shoots anyone. People put down their weapons and live as neighbors. They help each other and wave and smile. Maybe bands could come and play at parks and restaurants, and we could give free food to people who were hungry. People could read poems and chant messages about peace. If someone felt angry or violent, maybe there could be volunteers to council them. Drivers on the road would be patient, and gangs would not kill each other. The citizens would do this because we are all part of a human family, and everyone has the right to be happy.

In order to accomplish this, we need the help and support of community leaders. We could begin with churches in the area. We could approach local civic groups and newspapers. We would need the help of the mayor. It would take a lot of planning, but the message is so special we think people would want to help.

We haven’t decided which date to choose for “One Day of Peace.” We thought about choosing Yogananda’s birthday or Dr. King’s, but then we thought it should be a random day that didn’t have any connection to religion or politics. Besides, every day is someone’s birthday. We would like to stop war and fighting all over the world, but we can only do what we can do. We begin where we are.

We propose “One Day of Peace” in honor of all the young people hurt or killed on our streets. We want to offer “One Day of Peace” in the name of all the children who have lost a parent, in honor of orphaned and abused children, in honor of any policemen killed or injured trying to keep peace in L.A., and in honor of people who had to go to jail because they didn’t know another way of life. We want to celebrate “One Day of Peace” in honor of all the teachers and peacemakers like Ghandi and Dr. King and anyone who has ever had a dream. We think there should be “One day of Peace” when all humans stand up together with no weapons in their hands or hearts.

When I went to look for the old tree, to revisit for this article, I couldn’t find it. It was gone.

 

Kathie Gibboney

It has been said that Kathie Gibboney invented the Unicorn, which she neither admits nor denies, as it might reveal her true age. Kathie is an essayist, reporter, and poet for MMN with her column, "My Corner of The Canyon." She lives happily in a now-empty nest in Topanga, CA with The Beleaguered Husband and a marmalade cat.

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