he is born

i had been trying to knit some thoughts together on the value of a life for several weeks after hearing a news story on a palestinian-israeli prisoner exchange.

the underlying cultural differences in viewing a life were striking and sad. it wasn't something new to me, just something underscoring what i already knew.

i could never seem to piece together anything powerful enough to convey this elemental issue.

until yesterday.

wyatt came at breakfast time, more delicious than any other earthly offering. i've dubbed him "cilantro skin" because his mom always says that cilantro is like eating fresh air. kissing his forehead, dusted with dark black hair, is just like that... fresh air. yielding to a kiss, yet offering the subtle resistance of touch.
his surreal arrival came after long and arduous hours of effort on my daughter's part. having to be freed from her womb by a knife, he came out perfectly unscathed, like a magical little fairy.
he instantly wove his tiny way into our hearts. we all felt a need to protect and love and declare to perfect strangers that our world had changed!
we made inward resolutions to be better people, eat salad instead of fries, watch our words.
we wept as we saw his mother's chin and his father's full lips knowing that he was a continuation of ourselves. linked together by blood and history, he had become the next step in our lives.
radiating from his nubby cotton blanket was new purpose for us all.
the world indeed now needs to go on.... for him.
so.
it becomes ever so much more clear how elemental it is how you view the value of life. if like in the israeli-palestinian prisoner exchange, the palestinians knew they could ask for many lives in exchange for this one jew. he was a valuable commodity worth the lives of many palestinians. it couldn't be a one for one.... a palestinian life simply wasn't that valuable. this cultural difference underlies so many wrongs in the world. didn't they all want to be better when one of their sons was born? didn't they make vows to protect and love and... and not to make that tiny dear into a human explosive?
i guess not.
it was reported that all over college campuses students are wearing the checkered keffiyehs, symbol of the palestinian people. is it a trendy fashion coup or a statement of solidarity? beware of what you are saying. the values expressed by the keffiyeh are built on a culture of death.
when i was in the sixth grade, a new fad had hit the country. we called them "surfer's crosses". what a surfer cross actually was though, was a the crooked symbol of the nazi party. it wasn't still very cool at all in those days to be a jew in middle america. kids made jew jokes, like polish or dirty girl jokes. you bastardized your name so you didn't sound ethnic. you fit in . you wore a surfer cross. when my dad, my jewish dad, saw the "surfer cross" around my fashionable neck his face said more than the few words he spoke. "never wear that again", was what he said but his eyes spoke of a betrayal, an ignorance, a loss of basic values he saw in my wearing this necklace, a "how could you?" not just to him, but for all mankind.
so, what is the value of a life? it streams with growing importance conveyed by words, deeds, vows, choices and even what we put on to wear in the morning. choosing life changes every life.