The grey halo
When you meet someone you haven’t met before, there’s a natural tendency to place that person in some kind of a box.
“Oh, you know Jack, he’s the one with the afro hair and a hangup about pesticides.”
“Minnie? She’s the one who made those delicious brownies we had at the New Year’s party.”
“Bill Cumbo? If a girl had a choice of kissing him or eating a raw lemon, the lemon would win every time.”
When my mother was still in public school, about 1907, a religious sect that had achieved prominence was spiritualism. There was a woman in her community who had espoused this approach to faith and was regarded as the leader of the local adherents.
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One day Edith and some friends went to visit the spiritualist woman for tea. After the usual chat about doings in the village, the hostess broached the subject of spiritualism and invited the visitors to an upcoming meeting.
She announced that her faith made it possible for her to assess each person as soon as they came in the door.
“How do you do that?” my mother asked.
“I can see above each head a halo. If that halo is white, then I know that person is a pure-living, God-fearing individual. If that halo is black, then I know I’m in the presence of evil.”
“And what shade of halo do I have?” asked my mother.
“A little shade of grey, Miss Austin, a little shade of grey.”
We simple lay persons have to settle for conversation and work experience before we can hang halos on people or put them in boxes.Then half the time we read them wrong.
