Once upon a time there was a sleepy little fishing village along the shores of Mexico's biggest lake. The people who lived there were some of the poorest of the poor. They lived off-the-beaten-track, so far, that even the bus only came once a week or so. But that poor little village had something that very few places on earth had-perfect weather. And so it came to pass that some adventurous souls happened upon this poor little village, and decided that they had found a slice of paradise right here on earth.
Now these first visitors were certainly hardy souls. They had no ice. They had no hardware store. They had no grocery store. They barely had a road. They had no television. Some had to carry their water. They had no e-mail. Their mail took months to arrive. But they did have hearts.
It was an international bunch that would gather at the only hotel in town for a few refreshments in the evening. Some were from the US and others were from Europe. Most were writers and artists of one sort or another. Maybe it was the hard life they shared with the natives of this tiny village, but they were also pragmatic.
No one has ever explained where the ideas first came from, but soon there were local children going on to university, their way being paid by the hardy souls who had come to inhabit their poor little fishing village.
It wasn't long before there was a silk factory. The local people didn't make lots of money, and it may be that the majority of the profits went to finance the building of homes for the visitors, but the factory did provide an alternative to fishing and farming. Or perhaps it would be better to say the silk provided an additional income to certain families.
As the visitors from faraway places became ever more ensconced in their new-found paradise, they invited friends and family to come and visit them along the idyllic shore to partake, if only for a brief respite, the wonderful climate and the welcoming hospitality of the natives.
Soon there were other folks from faraway places who wanted to live (for more than just a few weeks) in paradise. So they came and built their houses and lived along the lake for awhile. Soon there was a veritable flood of tourists who came every year to walk the cobbled streets, take pictures of the sights, and bask in the warmth of the sun and the people.
But this story is about those first visitors, those folks who came when there was nothing but hardship. Those first folks had something that subsequent generations of visitors gradually began to lack. They had heart. They respected the people of the village. They loved them, and yearned to help them and their children in substantial ways. They used their talents to bring about lasting changes in the welfare of their neighbors. The most surprising fact is that there were so few of those early visitors to have accomplished such monumental social reformations.
Today, much of that early spirit still exists, though the percentage of the extraneous population dedicated to bringing about long-lasting change to their neighbors seems to have dwindled dramatically. It seems these days that if too much effort is required, then it is better to simply blame the locals for their plight and let well enough alone.
This does not apply to every segment of the transient population, certainly. There are many visitors who come to partake in a piece of paradise who are moved deep within themselves to help those who are less fortunate.
These days that sleepy little fishing village is a major tourist destination, but there are still other villages around the lake which are dying. Villages which have always relied on the fish from the lake to sustain themselves are finding that the lake can no longer give them sustenance; villages populated by the very old and the very young; villages located a mere hour away.
Do these people not deserve to partake in the milk of human kindness which succored our poor little village many years ago? Are there no more hearty souls left in our world who can see the need and be driven to alleviate that need? I, for one, have to believe that we, who are fortunate enough to have been born and raised in the foremost society in the world, have an obligation to share our knowledge with those who are in greater need than ourselves. I think the phrase that has traditionally been used is that we need to love our fellow man.
