Words from Pep Outcast

Words from Pep

Outcast

A rusty barrel sat stubbornly near the remains of an old boat. He sniffed, approved a spot to his liking and lifted his leg. It appeared to have a long history of being corroded by this gray antique of a dog. As I sat on a crate waiting for the plane out of Grise Fiord I pondered how this old fellow survived the winters here in the high arctic. Despite his bedraggled appearance he seemed to have a layer of fat. I had been stranded here four days by a late season snow and during that time he had cautiously warmed to my friendship. Now and then I saw him being chased away from the town site, no strays allowed, and he had taken up residence in this old upturned boat on the beach. I called him Qimmik, the Inuit word for dog. Figuring I’d never see him again I burrowed into my duffle for a cookie. He caught wind, stuck his nose in the air and ambled my way. Remaining out of reach he stood there, eyes shifting between mine and the cookie. I tossed the first half. It fell to the ground, was smelled and approved. He snapped the second half out of the air.  Reaching for another I asked, “What’s your story Qimmik? Why are you all alone?” He answered with a string of drool as my mind wandered to the multitudes of people living on the outside, on the lonely edge of existence. Many of us, like Qimmik, have been the outsider, maybe even an outcast at times. But, there are those who, unable, or defined as unacceptable in our minds and culture, are permanently consigned to existence with Qimmik under the boat. Paraphrased words of Jesus came into my head, “I have come to bring good news to the outcast.” Cynically I mused to myself, For the outcast dwelling in a cardboard box, where’s the “good news? With that question floating in mind, Qimmik’s tail began to wag. Soon his whole decrepit carcass was shaking and his cookie dusted lips turned up with a smile. Clearly this outcast sensed he was being seen for his intrinsic value and accepted for the unique creature he was. At that moment Qimmik was not alone in the world and he knew it. It dawned on me, this is the good news and my heart soared in the grip of knowing that I, you, not one creature is alone. We are accepted for who we are and never outcast. We are surrounded by the radiant embrace of our Ever Loving Creator. The drone of a plane reached my ear as he caught the last cookie and I was soon heading south. I never saw Qimmik again, but on that day, over thirty years ago, he was the catalyst for a revelation that has become the ground of my being — All creatures, all people, are seen, accepted and loved, no strings attached, by the Author of Life. I must do no less. 

www.theteacherwithin.com 

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ONE WORLD  -  ONE FAMILY OF MAN  -  ONE CREATOR OF ALL