Oliver's Window

MIXED WITH THE CHIRPING OF THE BIRDS, OLIVER HEARD a voice outside of his window. He climbed out of bed, and ran over to see where it was coming from. He was overwhelmed by the view of an eighteen-thirties fantasy world. Stretching off into the distance, along the left side of the road, were multistoried residences occupied by wealthy Londoners. To the right was a pristine park, with a beautiful fountain. As you might have guessed, we are located in the middle of the musical movie "Oliver!"

Oliver Twist had never seen such a site. All his life he had lived in extreme poverty, born in the early 1830s in a charity workhouse, to an unwed mother who promptly died upon giving him birth, he grew to his ninth year, and was thrown out of the workhouse because he had the brass to ask for more food after he had consumed his meager portion of gruel. Ultimately, he finds his way into London, and falls in with a gang of boys headed by an old Jewish man named Fagan. Fagan supplied the boys with more food than the workhouse did, but at the cost of their having to go out and pick pockets for a living, giving him the proceeds. As a result of one of these ventures, Oliver is arrested for picking a pocket that he had never touched. When the gentleman whose pocket was picked realized that Oliver was innocent, he tried to make amends by taking Oliver home with him, and that night treated him to such kindness as the boy had never seen.

So, you might be able to feel just a bit of the wonder that Oliver felt as he saw the street scene below his window. Off in the distance, there was a lovely blonde lady carrying a basket of beautiful red roses, and she was walking in his direction. She sang out, "Who will buy, my sweet red roses? Two blooms for a penny." The melody was a counter refrain for the main song to come, and sung by itself, it had a melancholy quality. Hers was the voice that he had heard from his bed.

Shortly, the flower lady was joined by four other beautiful White ladies, each carrying milk in two buckets hanging from a yoke affair resting across their shoulders. While carrying a second counter refrain, they repeatedly asked the musical question, "Will you buy any milk today mistress? Any milk today mistress?"

Soon these ladies were joined by yet another White lady selling strawberries, and then a White gentleman who was a knife grinder, with a resonant bass voice adding to the now growing body of song. The street was soon busy with merchants all calling out to those around them, asking, "Will you buy?"

The music reached a crescendo of sound, and then suddenly a silence occurred, creating just the right audible space for Oliver to insert his emotional song expressing how truly overwhelmed he was:

The street erupted with activity, there were White maids beating rugs, White window washers, a line of White ladies pushing baby carriages down the street. Shortly, as the music, in beautiful contrasting melody and counter melodies, increased in volume, out of a side road there appeared a group of beautiful White girls, about Oliver's age, walking in ranks, wearing the cutest little yellow dresses. From the other direction there appeared a group of boys dressed in blue school outfits. The two groups, marching in time to the music did a very precisely executed blending of their columns, leaving each rank with a boy, a girl, a boy, and a girl. They marched around the pool and fountain and did a little dance routine, ending with the boys pushing the girls into the water, where one of them fell down and was crying. The teachers immediately took charge and the groups separated, with the boy going into the school building and the girls lining the fence to watch what was going on in the street.

A marching band came next for the finale, and when it had completed its march and the music finally died down, I had tears in my eyes. Oliver did not feel any more emotion than I did at that scene. I couldn't have sung that song without my voice breaking. Today we can't even purchase a recently made movie that shows all White people living normal White lives. I want to know who will buy the time back for us where we lived like that? Who can produce a neighborhood so lovely, and people so dear to my heart? Who will buy that wonderful feeling, and package it up for the future? As Oliver sang, "There must be someone who will buy..."

It is not hate to love your people, and to desire lands where they can live alone. It is love that I feel for my people. It was love filling my heart as I watched that scene out of Oliver's window, and anyone who says otherwise is a liar and a scoundrel.

Only you can prevent extinction!

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