Thoughts About Life
I Love Life
I Love Living Life
Cause if
You don’t Love Life
Life won’t Love You!”
Don’t give a hoot at what people say—it may be for the birds. That ought to be my motto—the only trouble is that I can’t seem to follow my own good advice. NAME: Gale Warner. OCCUPATION: Student. AGE: 13. DISTINGUISHING FEATURE: Extensive cerebral excitement—that’s me.
Sometimes I think so much my head starts aching. I suppose this will be a write-whatever-I feel-like-it book. I like writing, putting my thoughts on paper makes them make more sense. The only problem is most of the time my thoughts are miles and miles ahead of my pencil, so if anyone ever reads this, be prepared to read a hopeless mumble-jumble that probably won’t make sense. Sometimes I practically itch to write, my fingers will fall off if I don’t write something.
I love a fire, whether it’s in our own fireplace or on some remote campsite, it’s the same everywhere. It provides warmth, light and comfort, especially when you’re out in some wild, beautiful place like Idaho. You work like mad gathering kindling, paper and a bunch of firewood, and you coax and cajole if the wood is not right, and you build up a teepee and watch it cave in; you sit around and talk or write or read by the light. You can hear the woods talking to itself, and roast marshmallows and look up and see the sparks going up into the trees and the stars beyond. You feel peaceful; and back in the camper you lie on your sleeping bag and look out and see the embers still glowing, like some nightlights. Fire is an awesome thing; it could destroy me, my family, turn our house to ashes, and farm and woods to stubble. But I still love it.
“Beauty is truth; truth beauty.” I think Keats wrote that. I first heard of it in a literature book. I don’t understand it completely, but think it is a very beautiful and truthful saying.
“KEEP SMILING—it makes people wonder what you’ve been up to!”
I have a gift (or weakness, depending on how you look at it) of being able to put myself in someone’s shoes and know what he’s thinking. If he is heartbroken, I feel heartbroken. If this is a gift, it is a painful one. I care about lots of people, and it makes me ache when they are hurt. I have a sort of philosophy on life. You’ve got to have some sort of philosophy to keep yourself steady, with the world being so crazy now. I believe that everyone has some possible good in them; that no matter how cruel and stupid they are, no matter how deeply it’s buried, people do have a spark of good in them. In some people, it’s still burning brightly. But everyone either had a bit of possible good or still does. The trouble is bringing out the best in people.
I should have good luck this spring because I just saved a robin’s life—the first robin of the spring…After dinner, I was standing at the kitchen glass door gazing at the backyard and clouds…I got this curious impulse to go outside, so I stepped out into the cool spring air…A flurry of movement by the house aroused my attention. It was Peewee (Editor’s note: one of Gale’s cats), who had somehow cornered a bird…My sharp cry of reproach sent Peewee sulking away…I bent down to examine the bird. It was a robin, a beautifully colored male looking at me with an air of calm serenity. All this time he had not budged. He apparently was not damaged, as his wings, legs, and eyes appeared healthy, so far as I could see…I was caught breathless by his beauty: the beautiful, but not striking, brick-red breast; the smooth neatness of his soft gray back; the perfect white throat patch speckled with brown; and the brightness of his alert eyes. “Only a robin,” most people would say. “Only a plain ordinary, common robin; nothing to get excited about.” Yet to me, he was an object of fantastic beauty and neatness, a truly marvelous product of nature. At times, I tend to get carried away by such things most people consider drab and unimportant. (Editor’s Note: the robin finally flew away safely.)
A doctor friend of Mom gave her a pair of mounted wood duck heads. They were very beautiful, but I kept thinking of the seven scaups on the pond this morning, our own ducks, a pair of woodies that I once approached with the boat. I kept thinking why did people do such stupid things like shooting beautiful ducks for an ornament in a room and how much more beautiful the ducks would have been alive.
Sometimes I wonder how it is I’m lucky enough to have…nearly everything and why some people have so little material things. Plus I’ve got friends, good parents, a secure future, good health, enough money, wonderful pets and fresh air to breathe! How did I get so lucky? What did I do? Sometimes I get scared—it’s all too good to be true—something horrible will happen to end this, it can’t last—things like that. That’s when I really have to trust in God. I’m not embarrassed to admit I believe in God and talk to him when I can. I know it sounds silly but it’s very comforting and makes me happy. I still hold the basic belief that the world is good, and everybody has some good in him…If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s someone cutting down and murder-mouthing someone, ANYONE.
“God is all encircling. God is the center of it all. Love, peace, happiness, kindness and honor radiate in continual circles, like ripples in the water.”
Well, tomorrow is my last day at junior high school. Then I’ll graduate and have a real diploma to prove it. I can hardly believe that soon I’ll be a freshman—me, skinny little Gale, who still is childish enough to believe in the good of the world. When I tried on my blue graduation dress tonight, I realized that I didn’t want to be any age than the one I am right now—not quite 14, still fresh and young and not quite grown-up in body but nearly grown-up in spirit. I wish I could say, like Anne Frank, that I have a goal because I don’t, except for a half-baked wish to do something good. But I do have an opinion and I won’t help but think with the utmost happiness, I am a person!