“Lord, make me an Instrumentof Thy peace. Where there is hatred, let me sowlove. Where there is injury, pardon…”
-ST.FRANCIS OF ASSISI
The game of Cowboys and Indians had been going on vigorously and, to stretch the meaning of the word a little, peacefully, out on the beach for some time. Then suddenly, there was trouble.
One of the youngsters, a brown-hairedCowboy, about seven and the youngest of the lot, had been captured by the Indiansand was to be tied to a stake-the stake being a huge, ugly hunk of driftwood that looked very much like the gnarled roots of anancient tree. The brown-haired Cowboy objected to being tied to the driftwood. Whether,in his concept of the game, the driftwood wasnot legitimately a stake or whether he, out ofsome special sensitivity, found the ugly driftwood objectionable, I could notmake out. But he was very definite about it. He would not be tied to it.
The boss of the game, the oldest of theboys, about ten or eleven and something of a bully, grew angry.
“Go on home, Yellow!” he shouted at thelittle fellow, “Go on home, We don’t like you!”
The other boys, in the natural spirit ofthe gang, took up the words in a sort of singsong. “Go on home, Yellow! We don’tlike you!”
The boy, hurt andbewildered by this sudden show of cruelty,looked from one face to another. Then, after a long moment, in a voice quavering but deeply earnest,he said, “But I like you.”
The singsong stopped before hisearnestness. For a brief moment, it seemed as if his simple but gravely movingwords would have some effect. Three of the boys looked at one another inuncertainly. They had been somehow touched.
But the bully had not been touched. “Go onhome, Yellow!” he cried out again. And then to the gang, “Come on, fellers! Let’sgo!”
The game was begun again without thebrown-haired Cowboy.
He looked desolately on for a minute ortwo, then turned and moved slowly away, following the frothing white line ofthe sea’s edge, sadness in his drooping figure, bewilderment still on his sensitiveface.
I watched him go. I felt profoundly sorryfor him. It was as if I had just watched the stoning of a prophet.
He grew smaller in the distance. Still hiswords stayed with me.
“But I like you.”
It is along way from a mountain in Galileeto the beach at Malibu and today’s world, yet that brown-haired boy, standing there on the sand, answering his young tormentors with an earnest declaration of his affection for them, vividly brought back to me those dramatic,revolutionary words, “But I say unto you, love your enemies…”
He disappeared from my view around a wide sweep of the shore.
What would the years do to the littleCowboy? Could he go on saying to his enemies. “but I like you?” could it everbe he would remain unspoiled in the world andone day be a saint？
MYLES CONNOLLY
AUTHOR OF “THE BUMP ON BRANNIGAN’S HEAD”
以愛心待人
主啊！讓我做你宣揚和平的工具。有憎恨的地方，我就播下愛心，受屈辱的地方，寬恕…
－聖法蘭西斯
西部牛仔打印地安人的遊戲正在興高采烈地進行著，將字義稍作引伸，在靠海的沙灘邊上一時太平無事。後來，突然間卻發生了紛爭。
其中小的一個年紀大約七歲的棕髮小牛仔被印地安人捉了去，要把他綁在一根木樁上－那木樁是一根又大又厚的浮木，看起來很像一棵盤根錯節的老樹。棕髮牛仔反對被綁在那浮木上。是否以他的遊戲觀念來看，這浮木不合木樁的條件，或是出於他特殊的反感，認為這醜陋的浮木令人討厭，我就想不通了。不過她對這件事很明白而肯定，他不願被綁在那上面。
孩子中年紀最大的一個，大約十至十一歲扮演暴徒之流的角色，是這局遊戲的首腦，生氣起來了。
「滾回家吧，黃毛小子！」他向小傢伙叫嚷說：「滾吧！我們不歡迎你！」
其他的孩子在一夥人的心理影響下，也把這句話當山歌來唱：「滾回去吧，黃毛小子！我們不喜歡你！」
那孩子對他遭到突然而來的虐待而傷心和不知所措，逐個地注視著他們的臉。最後，經過了很長的一刻，他用發顫的聲調但非常誠懇地說：「但是我喜歡你們啊！」
山歌由於他的誠摯而中止。好似他單純而莊嚴的感人言辭在極短暫的時間裏產生了效果。孩子中有三個，存疑地面面相覷著，他們已經不知不覺被感動了。
但那暴徒卻未被感動。「滾回去吧，黃毛小子！」他再度嚷叫著。又對那一夥玩伴說：「來吧，夥伴們！我們走！」
遊戲在不讓棕髮牛仔參加的情形下再度開始。
他淒涼地看了一兩分鐘，然後才轉身慢慢地沿著翻白沫的海岸線走去，他那垂頭喪氣的身影看起來很悲傷，而迷亂的表情仍停留在他善感的臉上。
我目送他離去，深深地替他難過。就像我彷彿看到人們用石頭來對付先知一樣。
他漸行漸遠，但他的話仍留在我心中：
「可是我喜歡你們。」
從當年耶穌在伽利山傳教到現在的茂利布海灘和今日的世界已經相距很久了。可是那個棕髮孩子站在那邊的沙灘上，誠懇地向他們宣告自己的愛心，栩栩如生地使我回到了耶穌所說的戲劇性和革命性的話：「我只是告訴你們，愛你的敵人…」
他在我的眼簾下消失於海岸廣闊的灣角處。
歲月將把那小牛仔造就成怎麼樣的一個人？他是否仍會向他的敵人說：「可是我喜歡你」？他可不可能仍潔身自愛地活下去，直到有一天終於成為聖哲？
邁爾士 康諾利（作家）
Hatred: 憎恨, 增惡; 敵意
Vigorously: 精神旺盛地; 活潑地
Driftwood: 浮木
Concept: 概念, 觀念, 思想
Legitimately: 合法地
Bewildered: 困惑的
Cruelty: 殘酷, 殘忍
Quaver: (聲音等)顫抖
Earnest: 認真的; 誠摯的; 熱心的
Tormentors: 使苦痛的人(或事物)
Declaration: 宣佈, 宣告; 宣言, 聲明
Vividly: 生動地; 逼真地
Sweep: 曲線; 轉彎; 彎曲; 彎路
Unspoiled: 未損壞的; 未受破壞的
Saint: (教會正式承認的)聖徒
