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"The Children's Door"
Claude AnShin Thomas

A group of children came over to the room this morning to visit us - a gift. Although today I experienced a very strong reaction to their presence. An overwhelming sadness and despair overtakes me and I feel so full of emotional tension that for a moment, a brief moment, I think that I might self combust.

When I see them, look into their eyes, observe the innocence of them it takes me deep into the reality of war. The war that I experienced in my family, the war that I fought in Vietnam, and the war that continued to rage inside and outside.

The war in my family; how I was abused, exploited and neglected as a child. Vietnam; seeing children being killed and killing them. The war after the war; abandoning my son at the age of 3. Losing him, depriving him of his right to a father.

When I see them I touch all of this and my mind drifts off and I start thinking of crows and the reality that where there are crows there are no songbirds because crows eat their eggs, and then I think - but I really like crows.

A voice brings me back into the room stating that we should have hugging meditation, and my skin crawls. I don't want to hug these people I don't even know who they are! But secretly I know my shame is talking to me in a disguised voice so I stand off to the side and merely bow.

< Back | Short Stories & Essays | Next >

"The Children's Door"
Claude AnShin Thomas

A group of children came over to the room this morning to visit us - a gift. Although today I experienced a very strong reaction to their presence. An overwhelming sadness and despair overtakes me and I feel so full of emotional tension that for a moment, a brief moment, I think that I might self combust.

When I see them, look into their eyes, observe the innocence of them it takes me deep into the reality of war. The war that I experienced in my family, the war that I fought in Vietnam, and the war that continued to rage inside and outside.

The war in my family; how I was abused, exploited and neglected as a child. Vietnam; seeing children being killed and killing them. The war after the war; abandoning my son at the age of 3. Losing him, depriving him of his right to a father.

When I see them I touch all of this and my mind drifts off and I start thinking of crows and the reality that where there are crows there are no songbirds because crows eat their eggs, and then I think - but I really like crows.

A voice brings me back into the room stating that we should have hugging meditation, and my skin crawls. I don't want to hug these people I don't even know who they are! But secretly I know my shame is talking to me in a disguised voice so I stand off to the side and merely bow.