August 1, 2013 (Thursday)
It was the summer of 1942. I was 10 years old. I went to a popular swimming pool not far from where we used to live, aiming at getting a tan. I stayed outside all day beside the pool. Turning from time to time, like a turkey on a rotisserie. I went home totally red all over except where my bathing suit hid my skin from the burning rays of the sun.
By early the next morning, I was covered with giant blisters. I had to spend the next several days in bed as family and friends administered home remedies to see me through the experience.
The sun is millions of miles from earth, but very powerful. Its mysteries are not fully known even today. Activity on its surface and deep within it affect radio waves on earth. The Northern Lights beautify the night skies because of the interaction of the sun’s radiation with the magnetic fields of earth. To say it is powerful is understatement to say the least.
Taking into consideration the damaging effects of too much sun, one might say “the sun is bad.” But we know better. We didn’t miss school the day the teacher told us that life on earth depends on the sun. Without the sun everything in our solar system would die, including the earth itself.
We conclude, then, that the sun is good, but we can behave irresponsibly and suffer ill effects from its rays.
We are constantly characterizing people as good or bad. The fact is that people are both good and bad. Individually. Each of us is a mixture. It’s almost as if we were two people. If we want the “good guy” to live, we must feed him a wholesome and nourishing diet. Let the other guy starve–he only causes trouble anyway.