He waits for his breaks so he can go smoke his last cigarette and finish his drink. It’s 2 am and he’s deep into the fog he waits for every night. Sitting on the corner of the same slum he’s lived in his whole life, he stares at the stoplight. One solitary light in the middle of the darkest borough, one solitary peice of guidance in a place that knows the same cyclical failure from family to family. The last person to make it out of this slum alive was never heard of again; naturally, everyone here has low expectations. Just as the moths fly into the light and die, the people of this slum gaze into the aura of nothing just waiting to get burned and fall. You see though, it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t choose where he was born; he had no choice what neighborhood or family would give birth to him. A mediocre man doing mediocre things would be the best outcome the world would let him have, but is that fair? It’s not his fault he was beaten by his alcoholic father and shown that sin and impurity brought happiness. It’s all he was taught, it’s all he has ever, and will ever know.
Now let me switch gears to another man that many of us can relate to. Having all the opportunities reflective of a great neighborhood and family, he is off in his BMW to a major university where he can get a job and satisfy his role in society as a model citizen. It wasn’t his choosing that made him the man, or boy, he is today, but rather luck. With more opportunity than he can handle, he goes off to college expecting the finer things in life: a great party atmosphere, random hookups, and most importantly, an all around fun time. He’s not pressed to graduate in 4 years, heck, he doesn’t even care if he gets a degree. His father will always have a position for him if he messes up. Taking everything for granted, he lives, well, coasts through his life and watches all of the opportunities pass him by. Decision after decision he plays the prodigal son…
A man eater now, she has no idea what love is. How can she though? It’s not her fault everything was stripped away from her. I mean, she was in love, she knew it and so did he…or so she thought. So wrapped up in everything he was to her, she couldn’t imagine a life without him. Ever since he left, she’s been craving his touch, his words, his comfort. She trusted him, and she loved him; sadly though, she didn’t realize that love is subjective. It wasn’t her fault that he was naive with no idea of his future. Who knows what he thinks now, does anyone even care? All that matters is the life she lives now. She has learned her lesson; she can’t trust anyone. It’s a shame that one man ruined her life, but those were the cards she had dealt to her. Can you blame her? Is it her fault that all she needs, or thinks she needs, is a man to complete her? No, I can’t, cause in all honesty, we all need something to complete ourselves.
So here’s my question to you; what do these three have in common? I mean, there isn’t a lot that relates to these characters. We have an alcoholic lower class worker, a rich prodigal son, and a hurt mistress. What could possibly tie these together. Well, here’s a hint; it lies inside. The cards that were dealt to them wasn’t their choosing, and it wasn’t their ideal to play them the way they did. The outcomes of these people were radically different however. What if I told you that the man in slums grew up to be a family man, or the kid with the beamer ended up in the slums? How about that man eater, what if I told you she wasn’t a prostitue, but rather a mother in a loving family? You see, we all have cards dealt to us; some cards are better than others, but what we need to realize is that we need to trust in our faith, and in ourselves to play those cards correctly. Don’t piss away opportunities that stare you in the face because there is some fun involved. Don’t let one experience start a downward spiral of mistrust and neglect. These cards that are given to us, they’re meant to shape us and keep us on our toes. Each card brings a new lesson, a new learning, a new love to us. Cherish that and move on. Sure we don’t always like what we’re going through, and sometimes it’s not even our fault neglect is staring us in the face, but let me remind you that it is our duty to realize how lucky we are.
At any given time there’s someone out there dying to play your cards, if you won’t, you might as well fold so someone else can.
Chris Kordick
