KINDER ISLAND.

“I’m Abby. I’m seven-and-three-quarters. It’s very important not to leave out the three-quarters. When grown-ups say their age – Say forty-five – They stay forty-five till the very day they become forty-six. That can’t be right can it? After all you are forty-five and one day then forty-five and two days all the way up to forty-six. Me and my friends all ran away on the same day. Daniel who is ten-and-a-half and very strong rowed this boat with us all inside. A big storm blew us about and I thought we’d tip out but we didn’t. We stayed upright for miles and miles and miles! In the end there was no land only water. At first it was a bit frightening but then we got used to it until we eventually found this island that nobody wanted so we took it over. Since then loads more children have come to join us. Now there’s children here from every nation on earth. We don’t row much. We do fight sometimes but normally it’s about who’s going to look for food or keep a look-out at night when strange animals wander about. We don’t have many rules but one is never to let a quarrel go on into the next day. At first Daniel wanted to be our leader because he’s the eldest but we said ‘no’ because the older you are the less sensible you are. Sophie who is four is too young to be it so in the end they said I could be because I am sort of in the middle. After a bit though it will be another child’s turn who comes from another country because that’s fair. We will wait till the sun has gone up and down a thousand times before we change. Daniel is counting the times off with a pencil and a bit of paper.

We miss our parents a bit. Mine would be nice and kind if they were here but if they were then we’d have to let all the other grown-ups come too because that’s fair too and it was the grown-ups we were trying to get away from so that would be no good. Besides that not all children’s parents are kind are they? Another rule is that no grown-ups could come to the island and be allowed to stay because they say things and do the very, very opposite. Even my mum does that. For instance last Christmas after singing carols to celebrate Christ’s coming, mum refused to have Mrs. Pearce round because she’s old and smells a bit of wee. I smelled of wee when I was a baby but mum kept me every day that ever there was till I chose to run away. Mum says Mrs. Pearce is a bit morbid – Always talking about Mr. Pearce who’s in heaven now and that would make Christmas sad and it’s supposed to be jolly. I like her though and like going round to her house but mum says it’s dirty there and I shouldn’t. Our teacher, Mrs. Mossman, says the reason she’s morbid is because most of her future has gone into the past and she does not have much more left and that we should be kind to her. Jesus would have had her round though he might have told her to wash first. When mum caught me going into her house she told me off, saying it’s dirty but she can’t help that can she? If Christmas is the season of good will then surely we shouldn’t leave anyone out should we?

I miss going to school a bit and playing with my friend Sarah and playing in the playground. I forgot my skipping rope so thought I may get bored but I don’t as there are many big storms which stop it getting boring. We can watch the waves and then see the sun come back out. It’s always sunny here. If I’d remembered my rope then the sand would have flown up into my eyes I suppose and stung them. I do my tables sometimes – Well the ones I did before running away. I had started to learn to write though some of it is a bit squiggly. I even miss our head teacher, Miss Barker. She was always shouting at us and telling us off for running in the corridors. We’ve made a swing in the palm trees. It’s much nicer to land on the sand if we fall off than it would be to land on concrete or even that special stuff. I wish Sarah had run away too. How she can want to stay in the world as it is I’ll never know. Grown-ups’ quarrels last for ever and ever – Spreading to those who have nothing to do with them. Then if they can’t get their own way they drop bombs on other grown-ups and their children. Eventually they either kill each other or compromise so they may just as well do that in the first place. Different coloured people don’t like other people and then white people sit in the sun to become the same colour as those they hate and still find they are the same inside so how silly is that? Then black people who have been hurt want to hurt others too sometimes which is also silly and solves nothing.

I remember going to the doctor’s once with mum. There was a blind man there. Mum made us sit right over on the other side of the room even though there were two seats next to him. Doors were opening and closing everywhere around him and I worried that he wouldn’t know when his turn was to go in so just before it was our turn I ran up to him, tapped him on the shoulder and said: ‘your turn next’. Mum told me off for letting go of her hand, talking to strangers and she looked away from the man but I looked for a long time right into his broken eyes. I wondered why they didn’t work. He smiled when I touched him. It was the first time he’d smiled and his face changed from being like a frozen thing set in a mask to very like our own faces. I thought about him a lot – Even through the children’s programmes. I wondered how he got there by himself. Nobody could tell me because we don’t know anybody like that. Anyway if you decide to sit on purpose far away from someone you won’t get close enough to get to know them and then you can’t ask can you? Why do adults say to us that if we don’t ask we won’t learn and then tell us it’s rude to ask questions? Once I got told off for asking a woman her age but the first two things people ask me are: ‘how old are you’? And ‘what’s your name’. I decided to say it was rude of them to ask me those things and was told off again for being impolite. No wonder I ran away from the grown-up world. It’s so confusing and makes no sense.

Daniel and another Sarah have just lit a fire. I’ve caught loads of fish. I feel a bit sorry for them but I’m so hungry I’ve got to eat something. Ages ago we found some dates and figs but they don’t fill you up for long do they? We must look a bit bedraggled whatever that means. Daniel is now bear foot since he lost his socks. He put them in the sea to wash them and the tide took them away. We’ve just found out how to open this coconut so we can drink the milk that’s inside. It’s not like the milk we have at home. We’ve got used to it though just as we have got used to living without the television though Sophie misses the children’s programmes. Sometimes we act out the characters in the babies programmes and that comforts her”.

I hauled myself out of the water. I was soaked through and exhausted from swimming. I’d fallen in after losing my way and slipping on some rocks. I realised that if I didn’t keep swimming I would drown as the waters were closing over my head. I am not an experienced swimmer. Now and again I just floated on my back till I regained by breath. Goodness knows where I am. I can hear soft breathing far away but I dare not move in case I fall into the sea again.

“Who’s that! Who are you”? I started as I felt a little hand in mine. “It’s a grown-up! Go away! This is our island”. I sat up, relieved that this child spoke English. She knelt down on the sand beside me as I brushed sand out of my eyes. “Oh! Your eyes are broken”! She said. “Yes, well, they’re well and truly caput”, I agreed. “Your clothes are still a bit wet. You should take them off because if you don’t you’ll get rheumatism.” Where did she get that from? “I can’t undress in front of you. I’ve got a few scars and things you shouldn’t see”. “We wouldn’t mind those”, said the child. “Besides we can see through to the inside of you – Past the outer things which grown-ups hide behind”. I’ve always known that so it came as no surprise. I went to where the sun was shining and soon got dry as the temperature was high. As I started to walk the child suddenly and silently led me to a safe place to sit. Perched on a rock which protruded from the sand we began to talk some more. “I’m Abby”, the child said, “And I’m Sally”, I said. “What happened to your eyes”? She asked. “Oh them! Well I had an accident when I was a baby so I can’t remember it very well. I don’t remember the details because it was a long time ago”. “Were you a child when you got blind”? She asked. “Yes”, I said. I wondered what she was thinking as a long silence followed.

All at once I was surrounded by children – Some as young as four and others as old as ten. “This isn’t a place for grown-ups”, said one of them. They were all around me now, at my feet and sides and even leaning up against my back. It was then that Abby spoke to them: “This lady’s blind. We have to find out what she wants, where she came from how long she intends to stay and whether she will go back and tell other grown-ups where we are but we shouldn’t turn her away because Jesus said so. Clear those things out of the way – Those big rocks for instance – For it says that whoever puts a stumbling block in the path of a blind person would be better to have a mill stone hung round his neck”. After moving the rocks the children encircled me once more, sitting quiet and attentive. They asked me why I’d come. “I’ve lost my way. I’ve become so sick of the world, the way it’s run; the way people hurt and ignore those who’re different I wanted to run away. Only I got so hopelessly lost. Because I can’t see and I am not in a familiar place this means I ended up here. I wandered about so much that eventually I fell into the sea and the waters went right over my head. I thought I would drown and look! I’ve scratched my legs on rocks that were sticking up out of the water”. The children looked. One came to bathe the cuts with a palm leaf soaked in sea water. It stung a lot but I knew it would heal because of the salt. “What do you want with us?” Asked Abby. “I just want to stay with you till I feel better and until I can think properly about how to get out of the mess I’m in and get back to where I should be”.

“It will mean sharing our food with her and trusting her not to tell on us if she ever goes away”, one of them said. They thought I was asleep but I wasn’t and I could hear them in conference. “If we send her away and make her an outsider where can she go”? Abby asked Daniel and Richard who were all for turning me out. “She could be useful”, Daniel conceded. “She could reach up to the higher tree branches and pick fruit for us. She could teach us things she knows like maths and history and tell us stories.” “She has lived longer”, Abby said: “That means she has been an outsider in the grown-up world longer and has been hurt more often. If we turn her away then we are no better than the grown-ups we came to get away from and we ran away because we didn’t like how they did things. We want our world to be different from theirs. That’s the whole point. Besides she looks poorly – Kind of sad too”, said Abby. “We must vote”, said Abby in a very important voice. I’d have given anything to see how many little hands went up. “We’ll tell her the good news in the morning and make it clear that this is our world and that no grown-up – Not even a blind one – Can ever tell us what to do”. Soon I heard running footsteps in the sand and called: “Abby”, who came running at the sound of my voice. “Did you hear all that?” she asked. “Yes”, I replied. “We thought you were sleeping.” “I will soon but I couldn’t till I knew you weren’t going to turn me away”, I said. “As long as you remember that you can never be in charge or tell us what to do and that this is our world you will be safe”, she said. “I notice none of you said I’d be a burden”. “Burdens are things”, said Abby. “Burdens are things not people”, she said with feeling. Then in a much gentler voice she said: “Open your arms”. I did and she came gently into them and both of us snuggled up to sleep

The next day we picked fruit and played games. I told them stories which have been stored up in my head for ages. Then Daniel, who’d not wanted me to stay, appeared with a present – A long piece of bamboo – Saying: “Here you are! Broken-eyed people carry these don’t they”? “Yes,” I said. “I had one but I had to let go of it when I fell into the sea otherwise I’d have drowned as I couldn’t hold on to it and swim at the same time”. “Well you’ve got another one now”, he commented. I was beginning to think it would do nicely but as it happened I didn’t need to use it much since as soon as I got up to move, little hands were there to guide me to where I wanted to be. Had another adult been present then surely they would have thought this a moving sight and would have had much to learn about the naturalness in these little children’s behaviour and the warmth emanating from their souls. From the very first moment of my arrival here I have never felt incongruous or unwanted by these children. Those who are afraid of the darkness come to me for comfort, knowing I won’t laugh at them or turn them away, thinking them silly. I have an honest, unadulterated picture of the world as seen from their perspective and through their eyes. What struck me most forcibly was the paradox of their having immature emotions, yet a wisdom far beyond both their and my years. I was amazed at how quickly they could change from almost being grown up themselves back into the little children which they still were

A ship was spotted. Abby suggested putting the fire out so we’d not be visible to its crew. We huddled together, frightened of discovery and yet in my case longing for it since I could envisage a time when survival would become difficult. “Abby”, I said, “In a way it would be good to be found. After all one day we will all have to go back to the real world because we won’t be able to cope here indefinitely”. “Why can’t you enjoy today without worrying about tomorrow”? She asked simply. “Because I have experience which enables me to think ahead and look ahead”, I answered. “Experience also made you want to run away in the first place”, she reminded me. That night a terrible storm raged. The wind and the rain were so fierce as to frighten me. The children and I all stayed close for safety’s sake. The log cabin which Daniel and Richard made blew down and some of the trees were uprooted. The children were stunned into a silence beyond tears and were shocked by the devastation. After some considerable time the log cabin was rebuilt. One of the children asked me: “Why is nature cruel”? I explained that I thought it was indifferent as opposed to cruel and that man continually upsets its balance by burning fossil fuels, needlessly felling trees and wasting energy. The next question was: “Why are adults cruel”? My answer was much the same. We are cruel when we become indifferent to another person’s needs, when we think that those who’re different are inferior and when we depersonalise people. We are cruel when we think people incapable of needing and giving love and that our rights are their privileges and that they do not merit respect. After I’d explained it more simply Abby asked: “Is it when we lose our way and ask people to do as we say and not as we do and when we don’t do as we say they should”? “Yes”, I said. I couldn’t have put it better myself. When the other children slept she said: “I’m glad you’re here”. Then with a voice breaking with emotion she said: “I miss my mummy and daddy”. She didn’t want anyone else to see her cry so I held her, telling her it would be our secret.

“How will we know when it’s our birthdays”? She asked. “Well since we have no watches or calendars we will just have to wait till we feel like having a big giant birthday for all of us and for Christmas we can have a separate one for Jesus,” I suggested. When we had our giant parties a greedy child ate more bananas than the others and was required to go to the naughty rock for a while but was allowed to come back when he apologised and before the night fell. Abby found it hard to forgive him since he’d taken them unbeknownst to me but I said forgiveness should come after an apology and if the person is truly sorry and resolves not to repeat his misdemeanours.

“What’s it like to be blind”? This question was repeated over and over again by the children who seemed to have a fascination with the subject. For all my language skills I found it hard to convey it to them. “Are you in the dark”? They asked. “To be in the dark you have to be in the light and I’m not in either. It’s like being in a nothingness”, I said. Since we were on an island I told them it was like being on an island of blindness, disconnected from the mainland of sight and some seemed to grasp this concept. I said it could be frightening but that one gets used to it. “Did you go to special school”? Abby asked. “Yes”. I said. “Then why aren’t you treated as if you’re special and not as if you’re different and if people insist on treating you as if you’re different then why don’t they call it different school”? “A good question”. I thought. The children described things like sunsets and trees and although I still can’t imagine them as I’ve not seen them they took so much trouble that I was deeply moved by their thoughtfulness. They made no assumptions about whether I was extra clever, a retard or had compensatory senses but rather accepted me as I am and liked me and I loved them for it.

Warm sun woke me on the day on which I left them. A helicopter circled overhead and spotted us. I was glad they realised I couldn’t have betrayed them since I was still with them when we were found. TV. cameras were everywhere and the precious place known only to and loved by children was no longer a private secret but known and violated by the adult world. Other aircraft landed to take us off and return us to our respective homes. Abby sat beside me all the way home and was eventually greeted, like many others, by crying parents who were relieved to see their children safe and well if a little thinner. Abby asked me on the way home as she sat beside me: “Since we ran away from the world because we didn’t like it, how can we change it when we haven’t got any power”? I told her: “Always keep in touch with the child within yourself. Hold to the values you have now and make no outsiders your enemies. Always remember why you ran away and remember the teachings of Jesus and adhere to them even when it goes against your self interest and even though you will fail. If enough people make a little difference then it will become a big difference and that will change the world.” As we neared our journey’s end I told the children it was a privilege to know them and to have been a part of their world. I told them, as I tell you now, that I believe that the smaller you are, the nearer you are to the very heart and essence of god. I told them: “I am humbled to have been part of your lives and sad to have to return to a world into which I do not fit and feel I do not belong”. Abby and Sophie got hold of a hand each in order to help me down the aircraft steps. Her final words to me were: “I Love you sally, you’re not blind at all”. Now my voice was the one breaking with emotion as I said: “I love you too, all of you”. With that and with Daniel’s bamboo cane, I made my way home alone.

(The end).