We Owls can thank our grandma Owls for a lot. My half-Irish grandma once said there was a little poem that could remind us that we aren’t the center of the universe. It went, “Aye, what a blessing ‘tis from Jesus, to see ourselves as others see us.” Anything, even a little rhyme like this, that keeps our pride at bay, is good. Why this is true should be apparent. We must try to see from the other Owl’s point of view to make wise decisions. To see the other’s view takes an element of humility.

Too often we blunder into disaster by not paying attention to others’ needs, desires, and abilities. We think we know it all. Some know-it-alls even end up dead. Check out the lyrics of the song, “Waist Deep in the Big Muddy’? In this modern fairy tale, a captain tells his men one night to cross a giant river. The sergeant says no, it’s too deep. The captain calls the sergeant cowardly. The officer then says he crossed this very river himself, earlier, upstream. When they finally attempt the crossing, the men turn back when the officer is drawn deep into the muddy water and drowns. He didn’t listen to what the sergeant knew; that the river where they stood was joined by another giant stream just a short way upriver, well below where the captain had crossed earlier.

We are part of a community, where each of us has a role. Our Limestone County Courthouse was built to look like the giant-columned Parthenon in Athens, Greece. The first democracy was there, symbolized by columns. Each column must do its part to hold up the roof. We are like those columns. Each of us must contribute to make our roof safe and secure. Each of us must be a neighbor, and help to hold the roof over all our heads. That’s why we make democratic governments. Such government comes from ‘we the people’, and so is answerable to us. If something’s not right, we can ask our councilmen or county commissioners to make it so. If they don’t, and enough people want what they won’t do, we vote them out. Vote them out. Ancient Greece was the first democracy. People could vote on the person they wanted. Every day, Athenians of ancient Greece could look up at their Parthenon and see what they believed in. The pillars meant no pillar was better than the other, no matter how much money or influential relatives they had.

In Florence, Italy, a statue was made by Michaelangelo. It was to be set out for all to see. He called it ‘David’, because it recalled the young man who took on the mighty giant Goliath. What its intent was is often lost on modern society. Today we see it full on, as if seeing a young man holding a stone. We don’t see it from the point of view of its original purpose. Its original intent was to stand in the public square, facing the city council chambers on the second floor of the government building. David faced directly into the windows of the city council chambers. The elected city council would look directly into the stern, implacable eyes of the man who represented the people of Florence; the people who voted them into office. When the Council members looked out the window at the determined eyes of David, they knew to whom they owed their service. Not a crony, not a donor. The people. They saw the David statue from a different point of view. It reminded them who was in charge. How I wish all our city councils, county, state and national offices had a David looking in their windows.