I sat at a table on a pressure treated deck, under the shade of a fine broad tree, looking out over a beautiful yard.

The scene could have been in a Norman Rockwell painting. If you were there you would have said to yourselves: “this is what life is all about”.

I was with three adults and a six year old princess. The adults were of varying ages and of diverse economic backgrounds and beliefs. The young child was bright, intelligent, beautiful, sweet and in the prime of her development.

Then came the look. The kind of look, which if seen enough times could turn a princess into a block of stone, dead in her tracks.

The look is like staring into the face of Medusa, the only difference is, it takes several looks for the stone to begin to form.

What began as a “Norman Rockwell” moment ended with me walking away, having witnessed a case of insanity, but not being able to immediately perceive the damage done to the life of the princess or the adults which witnessed the fall out.

She had a brand new doll, which was bought for her, by one of the adults and she began to play with it as any child would, but then the beliefs began to flow through the adults and out into our surroundings.

It was made perfectly clear, who bought the doll and how the doll was to be played with, but the princess wanted to take the dolls shoes off. The shoes were created to be taken off, but the purchaser was adamant about the child leaving the boots on the doll.

He even made a case for it, but not the kind of case, which would cause confusion on my part.

One of the adults, disconnected, the other chose a side, but the one who purchased the doll was not bending. There would be no reasoning with this individual and to do so, would have caused a huge scene, which would have hardened the stone which was beginning to form in the child.

She wanted to take the boots off her new doll and began to do so and then came the look of Medusa, the glare across the table. The kind of look, which if expressed at your local watering hole, may gain you a punch in the chops, but there it was; our dysfunction in plane view, for “ALL” to see.

As he extended his mental and emotional weight forward, toward the child, she pretended not to notice the look, but I could see her looking out of the corner of her eye, while she removed the boots on her doll.

She had not noticed the weight which she was now carrying and I felt saddened to witness the whole thing and wondered how we are going to be able to survive, if we are not even capable of bending on a belief, regarding a doll and her boots.

If we would have engaged the look, he would have defended his right to express the hurtful and damaging expression.

So I let it go, but I have spoken to him about his hurtful looks.

I was once a child and have endured enough of them, to know the feeling and weight of stone.

Our unwillingness to discard, even the smallest beliefs will be our ultimate undoing.

Unless we can begin to bend on our most glaring, superficial stances, then we will not be able to bend on our most trusted and comforting beliefs.

Our beliefs are not a “LIFE” preserver, if they were we would “LIVE” forever.

So says “The Voice of James”