“That proves you are unusual,” returned the Scarecrow; “and I am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. For the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed.”
― L. Frank Baum, The Land of Oz
She gave a final push and was rewarded as the baby flew from her womb. His tiny hands and arms, flapping like a young bird in flight, nestled in the doctors hands. She looked at his body, red from exertion, and named him Robin.
Robin was constantly trailing his mother. She was a keen gardener, tending her flowers with care, allowing Robin to assist with the ritual. His little shovel digging the earth, planting the seeds and shoveling the earth back , protecting them from the birds.
Robin also helped his mother with the bird feeders. She kept a careful eye on him as he spooned the seed from its container to the bird feeder, his little hands disposing half the contents on the grass. They would watch as the birds crowded the feeders flicking the seed in all directions. Robin would invariably clap his hands, squealing with delight, at the birds antics and squabbles.
Robins first day at school was cause for apprehension. The boys reacted to his name with cries of Batmannn, Batmannn. Robin wondered why they sang this refrain and was quickly introduced to the concept of super heroes and side kicks. He good naturedly accepted the boys attempt at humour, never telling them he had his own heroes.
Robins heroes were Christopher Robin with his side kicks, Winnie-The-Poo, Eeyore, Rabbit, Piglet and Owl, all living happily together in the Hundred Acre Wood. He had been raised on these stories, his mother snuggling beside him on the bed, book in hand, her eloquent voice breathing life into the characters.
Puberty arrived with a massive hormonal explosion, disintegrating Robin’s childhood. He started reading the legends of Robin Hood, recognizing the inequities in society, the injustices, the divide between rich and poor. He became angrier by the day. Recognizing it’s futility he tried to ground himself with thoughts of the Hundred Acre Wood. Letting the trees act as a buffer to his confused and turbulent mind.
His last year at high school. The guidance counsellor asked the class to complete an assignment on where they saw themselves ten years from now. This assignment was important to Robin and he spent time rationalizing his views on life and plans for the future.
He ruled out scaling Ivory Towers or worshipping the Golden Calf. His short time on social media had taught him the illusory nature of fame and followers. Surprisingly he thought of Lady Gaga and her outrageous costumes. She had such a beautiful voice, yet the voice alone was not enough to be recognized. He would not sell his soul or lose his identity to the mob. He would be one of the billions of everyday common folk who got on with life, helping family, friends and neighbours. The thoughts flew around in his head, finally resting on a branch of knowledge that appealed to him. He had made his decision. He would study sustainable agriculture in university and help develop the food supply of the earth’s ever increasing population.
Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? 28“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.