By Kiera Rich – KRich13@bellsouth.net
Y’all…don’t you just love that word? ”Ya’ll — I live in Georgia now. I can officially say that, ya’ll! Anyway…ya’ll have read the story of the Wizard of Oz, right? In the words of Paul Harvey, “Here is the rest of the story.” Ok so, the Lion, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, Dorothy, and even that little fuzzball Toto, they left me behind. I needed to go to Oz more than any of them, but was I invited? No! I was not! How rude! Why no, I’m not bitter! Why do you ask? Anyway, I wanted healing too. Sure I had a heart, and courage, and a brain. Kind of. My problem was that I couldn’t get them all working at the same time. In fact, my courage went out for sushi one night and just never came back. But the trip to Oz was just the ticket! I was so excited. I had to go! I knew beyond a doubt that I would find healing in Oz. And then Poof! The train to the Yellow Brick Road leaves the station without me. Again, I feel the need to say, “how rude”! “Well”, I thought, “I’ll just walk”. Surely there had to be more than one way to get to Oz. So I set off. On my own. No fanfare. No singing “We’re Off to See the Wizard.” No winged monkeys, or ruby-red slippers. Just me, my broken heart, my absent courage, and my mostly vacant brain casing. I also had an ingrown toenail, but of course that would not be considered good literature. Which is why, I think, that L. Frank Baum failed to mention me in his story. Ok, so here I am. On the road to Oz. It wasn’t yellow bricks at all. It was mud and rocks and those little gnats that fly up your nose. Anyway, I could see someone coming toward me. It was a man. Nicely dressed. Handsome and smiling like perhaps he’d just eaten a very sour lemon. Whole. It was like seeing Dick Clark selling used cars at Bubba Joe’s Pedal and Dash Used Car Pagoda. Very scary! But he was very pleasant when he stopped to talk to me. I told him about my journey to Oz, thinking perhaps that he would join me. Who really needed Dorothy anyway? I mean, I know she’s the heroine in the story and everything but I could almost hear the stranger and me singing “We’re off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz. Because, because, because…”well, you get the idea. In telling the stranger why I was going to Oz, I inadvertently mentioned the word healing. I thought I’d given the poor guy a heart attack. The stranger twitched and trembled. He foamed at the mouth before he sprang into action. “My friend,” he said, “I can give you healing right here right now.” Then he whipped a Bible out of some unseen storage place. I was a bit surprised to see the words “Property of Holiday Inn” stamped on the cover, but I couldn’t really ask about it. I was too busy wiping the flecks of foam off my face. “Friend, can you feel the power? Release the demons that bind you. Can you feel it? I said, CAN YOU FEEL THE POWER?” He was shouting scripture at the top of his lungs; at least I assume it was scripture. He was going so fast I really couldn’t understand what he was saying. But it had a lot of thee’s and thou’s and thou shalt not’s in it. Oh, and there was this bulging vein on his forehead, that seemed to be pulsing to the rhythm of what looked to be the Hallelujah Chorus. And then he pushed his nose about a half an inch from my own. “I SEE THE POWER IN YOUR EYES, FRIEND. PRAISE GOD YOU ARE HEALED.” I don’t think it was power that he saw in my eyes. I think it was fear. Sheer terror, in fact. The guy was in my face and I had some serious personal space issues. After pronouncing me healed, he slipped the pilfered Bible back from whence it had come, straightened his tie and said, “Friend, without your financial support ministry cannot continue.” Then he held his palm out toward me. I looked into the stranger’s eyes and was a bit taken aback to see visions of dollar signs dancing there. He spoke again, “Dig deeply into those pockets, friend. Help me bring the healing power to all our brothers and sisters.” Reaching into my pocket, I found pocket lint, chapstick, and 23 cents. I placed my life savings into the stranger’s hand and he snapped it up like a venus flytrap going after a big, juicy fly. He looked a little disgusted at my meager donation. Apparently healing costs much more than 23 cents in today’s economy. He walked away from me, smiling once again, looking to prey on…I mean pray for someone else. I watched as his form receded in the distance. Funny, I didn’t feel healed. Instead I felt as though I had witnessed a true glimpse of Hell. But he said I was healed. So I must be. Right?I almost turned back then. But the voice of that stupid cowardly lion kept going through my mind, “Gadzooks! I got a furball!” What a goon! If HE could get to Oz, then why oh why couldn’t I? So on I went, trudging through mud and rocks and those gnats. Herds and herds of gnats. As I eased on down the road, I began to see another form coming toward me. Imagine my surprise when the scarecrow came limping over the horizon. “Hey!” I said. “I know who you are. You’re the scarecrow…you know, from the Wizard of Oz.” “Duh” he said, “Who’d you think I’d be, Albert Einstein?” I didn’t care much for his `tude but he did tell me all about Oz. He told me about how his empty head had been filled with brains by the great Wizard himself. In my mind, I could envision all the wonderful things the scarecrow would do with his newfound knowledge. You know, noble things like curing cancer and finding a solution for world hunger. But when I asked him what his plans were, simpleton said, “I’m going to Disneyland!” What a waste! It was starting to get dark when I came across a weathered old man feeling his way down the Yellow Brick Road with a white cane. I didn’t want to scare him so I started talking to him, quite loudly. “Hey” he yelled back. “I’m blind, I’m not deaf. You don’t have to yell!” I asked him if he had been to see the Wizard. In my mind, I guess I was thinking that he must not have seen him, or else he would now be able to see. Then the old man began to tell me a story. It sounded kind of familiar, but I couldn’t quite place where I had heard it before. It was about a man named Jesus, who was the greatest healer who ever walked the Earth. I asked the old man why he didn’t go see this Jesus to get his sight back. It was then that the old man told me he really didn’t mind not being able to see. I couldn’t imagine that until he asked me if I had ever smelled a sunset. Smelled a sunset? It was then that I wondered if the whole world had begun to take drugs without my knowledge. He told me how, without his sight, his other senses were so much more keen. The old man told me how God had used his handicap not to burden his life, but to bless it. He took great comfort in knowing that he was walking the Earth blindly for the sole purpose of escorting those who could see. Escorting them not down the Yellow Brick Road but instead, down the path that follows Jesus. I watched the old man tottering off in the distance and I thought of the gentle words he had spoken. “Had I ever smelled a sunset?” Wow! If I only had a brain!
