Thursday, July 9, 2009

While living in the hot desert city of Phoenix, Arizona I heard an indian story. It was told that when a young Indian passed from childhood to becoming a young brave that the medicine man of the tribe would take him out into the desert. The medicine man would search for a cactus. A particular cactus. A special cactus. When the medicine man finally found just the right cactus, he told the young brave that this was his cactus. He was to care for the cactus and make sure that it got water once a month. The young brave was to take water out to the cactus. The cactus was the young braves responsibility. He was told that he would have to care for this cactus always as now there was a sort of bond between him and the cactus. It was “his” cactus. It was to teach the young brave responsibility. Only the young brave and the medicine man knew which cactus was his. I liked the story so much that on my next trip into the desert I selected a cactus and once a month I would take a five gallon container of water to it and pour the water around the base of the cactus. I did this monthly but unlike the young Indian brave who did this for life, after about a year I tired of it and stopped. I did not know then that the important thing in life is how you conduct yourself by helping others and God's creatues and not how much money or material goods you amass. There are values and lessons to be learned from every culture including this tale from the Indian culture. The cactus in the picture is one that Mary’s husband, Herbert, gave to her. She dutifully cares for it and it has grown from a small dime store sized cactus into this large cactus that you see now. We recently transplanted it from a large pot into the ground. It had outgrown the pot. The soil is sandy just like the desert and it gets plenty of water dripping off the eave of the roof. And when it was in the pot I would give it liquid fertilizer. The cactus and the care that it receives reminded me of this Indian story from long ago. And perhaps there is a moral in this in that you can’t save all of the cactus in the desert but you can save just one and by saving even just one you have done some good with your life. Much like my religious life was to
Father Galucci. I was his cactus. Lew

1 comment:

seaside said...

You take care of catus ;where as, my sister Glendon cann't get rid of them fast enough. They tend to grow wild around her place.