Fire In Meaning

Sure, I was at the art museum when the robbery took place. Yes, I did watch it all happen. I guess I was speeding a little when the museum security was chasing my car. But only enough to deserve a speeding ticket, not an arrest. My name is Sly, and being under suspicion has become a daily occurrence. After all, I live in the town of Meaning.

Meaning was founded in the year 200, when a man named Founder built a stone cottage on an island at the confluence of the Wealth, Power, and Success rivers. Some historians speculate that Founder was a businessman. However, those people are dreadfully mistaken. The citizens of Meaning know better than anyone, Founder, was a poet. He believed in the significance and the power of words. It was out of this principle that he named the town. Today, you can still visit his home and read the words he inscribed upon the doorpost.

"May those who enter this door leave knowing that every person has value. May they demonstrate this knowledge through love. May those who inhabit this town years from now still be careful of the words they speak and write, using them not to destroy but to build up."

Soon Founder passed away, leaving the island to his daughter, Faithful. She married a young sailor, Steady, who had moved to Meaning only a few years before. They had 3 children, Gentle, Kind, and Peace. For years the population of Meaning grew until they had to expand onto a nearby shore. A wooden bridge was built so citizens could easily get from one section to the other.

It wasn't long until mischief began to brew. It began with a man named Danger, who moved from a different town into a small house near the bridge. His son, Trouble, made friends with a boy named Goodness. Their brains were not fully developed (though this was in the year 500, long before brain science), and they decided it would be fun to burn down the bridge. They were caught and arrested, but Goodness claimed that it wasn't his fault. "I saw Trouble setting the bridge on fire when I was going to pick some flowers for my mother. I went over to try and stop him, but he wouldn't listen," Goodness told the judge. Goodness' name was to his advantage, this was the town of Meaning after all, and he got off the hook. From then on, the townsfolk became increasingly suspicious of people based on their names.

I was growing tired of being blamed for things I hadn't done, so I devised a plan. I printed up flyers and went around the town of Meaning passing them out to all the citizens with unfortunate names. Around 5pm, there was a knock on my door. The flyers had worked. Five minutes later, Mischief, Wrong, Mistake, Thief, Danger The Fifteenth, and Criminal were all gathered around my kitchen table. I told them the story of Goodness and Trouble burning down the bridge. I told them about all the times I'd been suspected for crimes I didn't commit, and I read them the good words written on Founder's doorpost. Everyone had stories of times when they were blamed for things they didn't do. Everyone was upset how Founder's writing had been manipulated by the townsfolk.

Criminal was deemed the official spokesperson of the group, so he decided to write a letter to the editor of the Sorta True Times. It read as follows;

Dear Mr. Truth,

It has come to my attention that several of the other townsfolk, as well as myself, feel we are being treated unfairly on the basis of our names. I am familiar with the history of Meaning, and am aware of the important part that names have played. Founder himself chose names for his children that he thought were significant. By no means was he wrong to do this, for when the names of his children were spoken it would remind them of good values. Since then, the citizens of Meaning have followed suit. However, this tradition has gotten out of hand. Some people have begun to believe that a person's name defines them. 

A prominent example of this is when Goodness and Trouble set fire to the bridge between the island and the shore. Goodness was not punished after he lied about his involvement, which was not a good thing to do. On the doorpost of Founder's house, he wrote;

"May those who enter this door leave knowing that every person has value. May they demonstrate this knowledge through love. May those who inhabit this town years from now still be careful of the words they speak and write, using them not to destroy but to build up."

The people of Meaning have been careful in what they named their children. Founder would have agreed that this is good. But he also talked about love. The way that this town is treating outsiders with different names than their own is far less than loving. In a town founded on the belief that every person has value, you would expect to see much more acceptance of differences. For it is in differences that much beauty is shown. I ask that you would take this to heart. Look at Founder's words carefully. Hold your actions against them and see if you measure up. We all make mistakes, and we will all continue to make mistakes, but I ask that you would try.

Sincerely, 

Criminal

Criminal's letter was never published in the paper. Despite our group's efforts, no one would listen. We marched outside of the town hall. We gave speeches, wrote letters, and painted. Nothing worked. The next week the grocery store was robbed. Wrong was blamed, and although proved innocent, he was put in jail. I had had enough. I told the group to meet at my house that night. We were all sick of trying to no avail. "What are we going to do?" Mistake asked.

"How about we burn down the bridge? They'll have to listen," Danger The Fifteenth proposed.

"It sounds risky," I said. "They might arrest us all!"

"They probably will," Mistake agreed. "But what else are we going to do?"

We got to work planning to burn down the bridge. It was risky. Especially in Meaning, because the bridge was a metaphor for connection and togetherness. We didn't want more separation, but what other protest would work? The goal was to get some insiders involved. Maybe then we could prove that names don't determine character. At last, we convinced Loyal, Justice, and Friendship to join us. Late that night, we set the bridge ablaze.

We were all arrested, but it got the attention of the press. Criminal's letter was finally published, although there was a paragraph above it attempting to cast him in a negative light. It's hard to tie all this up with a shiny bow, because it's not over. I'm writing this on a series of napkins stapled together in a jail cell, and I don't even know if anyone will ever read it. But the fire of hope burns in my bones. If Justice will come one day, may it be soon.

Seek Justice. Love Mercy. Walk Humbly.

-Sly