The Price of a Soul

The Price of a Soul ©

By 

Michael Casey

I read something in the paper and it should have shocked me, but it did not. In USA a company is chasing debt,  after the person has died. So the debt does not die with the person, it is Immortal, whatever the belief system of the person involved. Which goes to prove, never act as Guarantor, because even though Death and Taxes cannot be avoided, though some try to avoid the latter. You can be caught up in your friend’s debt, even though they are dead, so you become part of their Immortality, the immorality of chasing debt from the dead, thus killing the afterlife, the here and now life of the living. But maybe I am old fashioned.

So this got me thinking, and for those of you who bother to vote in USA, I hope you bother to vote because it seems everything has a Price, but the Value of some things has been lost. A smile from your mother, what price is that, priceless, I’m thinking of my own mother now. Even if she said she’d hit me with the wet mop if I stood on her clean kitchen floor. A hug from Grannie, as she slips 10 dollars into your pocket and winks at you. If you visits her grave you will always but always think of her and her Love for you.

When your dad spanked you when you deserved it, you really hated him, but later you realized that climbing the power lines was not a very good idea. So when later you became a power engineer your dad just laughed, and you laughed too over a few beers. But when your crew made one tiny tiny safety error you’d say you’d bring your dad to beat them. You said your dad was 6feet 6 and 300 pounds. They believed you as you were so large yourself. Years later they finally met dad, and he was 5feet 2, but his Love made you a Giant amongst men.

 The love makes  you big, not your actual size. As for your crew they were the best of the best, and all recruits were told that your dad would beat your bare arse if you did not comply to all the safety standards. And when finally the new recruit qualified, the look of relief he had on his face when your dad was not as big as the Rock. And so your dad’s memory and safety sense lived on through all your crews. Can you put a price on that?

The janitor who cleans through the night and leaves a few flowers every day in Reception, he does this himself, everybody thinks it is the company but it’s him. It’s only when he retires that everybody realised that without him the company would not be as nice as it is. His brother was an undertaker and that’s where the flowers came from, though nobody ever knew. Until 20 years later when everybody, but everybody came to his funeral they recognised the  flowers. You all smiled, but nobody said a word, but you all looked skywards and said thanks Joe. Now what price is there on this?

The crossings lady, the cop, the orderly in the hospital, the porter taking people to their operations. All these people and many many more have great value, great worth. Maybe even a fat silver haired writer in shades, from Birmingham, the one in Engand, maybe me maybe you whatever you do. We are all part of life’s rich tapestry, we are all a piece of the jigsaw. If you know your Bible the piece about the value of each part of the body springs to mind. Without all the pieces then we are not whole, a fabulous sports car is going nowhere without a steering wheel, or keys in the ignition. So what price do we put on a Soul? Is everything marked and barcoded, because the barcode is high or the sticker price is high then the Value is high?

A mother’s Love, a friend’s support, a cheerleader’s shouts, a band’s music, the smell of apple pie, or Irish stew, all of these and many many more are our Soul. Would you put a price on any of them? Is it a yard sale of the heart? A car boot sale, a wrecker’s sale, a bankruptcy sale. If all we do is sell our soul for the short term profit, then we are prostituting ourselves, our hopes, our futures. Yes we may make a killing, in money terms, until the stock market goes off the cliff edge.

Life and Love has many beats and tempos, but if you overwind  the clock it breaks, or goes too fast and chimes at the wrong time. So all I am saying is that somethings are eternal, and if a company or a society is just chasing the buck even into Eternity then the here and now is lost. And the colour of life is lost, life’s rich tapestry fades to black, the black of printed money, as the colours of life are slowly strangled. Chose love, chose life, and make it your “wife” , for love is a many splendored thing.