In rummaging through my files (files I am culling so as to reduce the burden on my children when their father deceases), I found pages related to a speaking engagement I fulfilled on February 17, 1964, more than fifty years ago. I had dropped it into a miscellaneous file for some reason, now unknown. It was Curriculum Day sponsored by the Spokane Public Schools, the Spokane County Schools and those of Pend Oreille (pond-oh-ray) County. My assignment was scheduled at 1:30-2:20 pm, and my location was in the ‘East Library.’ My topic was, according to the schedule sheet, Improving Pupils’ Speech Habits. I was billed as the Chairman at Whitworth College. The attendees were given additional biography by the chairperson, a teacher, assigned to the seminar. They learned then that I was chairman of a department, not the college.
I do not remember the occasion. Was it the east library of Gonzaga University or Whitworth College? Did I have a large contingent or a small one? Was I effective or ineffective in the presentation? Was I paid or was it a voluntary contribution? Did I know any of the attending teachers? I did not know Miss Nora M. Swanson, who introduced me, but now recalled by the program before me. Did my presentation make any difference? Did it change any practices of teachers working with students in Intermediate Grades? Is there any residue from the preparation for that presentation, the presentation itself, the cost of the seminar to the district releasing hundreds of teachers for the day of training and discussion? Is there anything good remaining?
One of the most important lessons we ever learn is to be faithful, faithful to the good of others, a proof of our faithfulness to God. In that faithfulness we are faithful to the meaning we have for life. Many believe in what is known as the butterfly effect. The slightest flap of a butterfly’s wings is registered in space and continues. We do not have the tools or machinery competent to measure that less than minuscule effect, but there is no doubt for some that it occurs. Researchers have tried to pick up Lincoln’s voice from space delivering the Gettysburg address. Space people are trying to track bits of scrap that have been delivered to the chasm of space by space craft, because it is important. A small piece may be enough to wound a space ship by striking it. The debris may be so small that the capsule crew can’t feel it, but significant damage can occur.
We are informed that nothing is lost, even if it changes form. We are told that the smoking of one cigarette by a pregnant woman affects her baby. One sunburn event may be enough to cause skin cancer thirty years later. What we do seems inconsequential to the mass of things done. We sometimes lose the realization that God made us, the whole of the race, to do all the minutia of life to make up the whole. There are those who do tiny constructions, and those who do tiny destructions. We all do some of both. In the end we shall account for who we are, what we have done, and the result in the whole of the doing. What did we mean to do when we did that thing, large or small? It takes the accumulation of all the days of our lives to fill life’s basket. Little wonder that we need God’s help to live well, in faith and virtue – to the end. Because time is presumed to be a creation, and not a factor to immortality, the moment is, and will always be, the important matter. Whatever we do in the moment is important for us to evaluate our contribution and the meaning of our lives. Am I finding worth for my life each day? If that question with its answer is not important for me, perhaps for others, what question is more important for meaning to me, or to the creator who maintains meaning, and regard for me? *Mark W. Lee, Sr. — 2016, 2020