Different words for the same thing

Well it is dusk. We just passed through La Crosse and are headed into Minnesota. The Bluffs along the Mississippi are INCREDIBLE and the sunset over the lakes is spectacular. They say this is the last view I’ll have because in the morning we’ll be in dull-as-a-doornail North Dakota.

There were National Park tour guides in the lounge car so I spent a good part of my day there. I managed to sit in the bible belt of the lounge car at a table with three women named Julia (hard J), who I embarrassingly kept calling Julia (soft J) because I’m so used to my Spanish professor’s name…and Gretta and Kathy. Kathy was the mother of 7 (she homeschooled ALL of her children), Julia a kindergarten teacher who was returning from her son’s graduation from missionary school, and Gretta a retired Lutheran school teacher. They discussed mission trips, private schooling, home schooling, public schooling, their journeys, their children. These three women (who shared so many strange commonalities among themselves) shared nearly nothing with me. But they were nonetheless comforting.

I found it interesting to hear how it was possible to teach lessons to children who ranged in age from 5 to 20. I found it refreshing to learn why private schools are good rather than listening to how they destroy public schools. I enjoyed learning of the adventures that came out of these women’s mission trips. Mostly what I learned in that lounge car was that even though I will never believe what they believe about this world, that there is still no shame in getting to know and understand perspectives different from my own. What separates us is not a line between good and evil. The deviation is simply differing perceptions of what common good really is. It is strange how our good intentions separate us. Maybe that is what has happened in this country over the past eight years; a confusing national identity of splintering intentions. And maybe if I can understand that, then I can be a better person.

Love,
Zoe