GYPSY

“Death like a Gypsy comes to steal everything precious . . .” Those were the last words I heard as I flicked off the radio, dashing out the door heading to work.

En route the radio in my head was on continual play—“Death like a
Gypsy . . .” I couldn’t shake the words I had heard on that Christian radio station. The musician had created a simple word formula—death equals Gypsy, Gypsy equals thief. Kind of catchy, unless your ethnic heritage is Gypsy.

I still remember the pointing-fingers-behind-the-back talk when a Gypsy girl attended my school briefly when I was in eighth grade. Was her greatest fault she was born a Gypsy?

I knew nothing about gypsies; I had no true understanding of their history or culture. I didn’t know their heritage included devastating prejudice since arriving in Europe seven hundred years ago or the fact that over a million Gypsies were executed during the Holocaust. Or even the fact that until 1994 there were anti-Gypsy laws on the books in the U.S., including making it illegal for a Gypsy to own a home.

Kids can be so cruel—with their words . . . and then we become adults.

One of the songs in the Bible has these lyrics: “Hear this, all you people of the world; both humble and exalted, rich and poor alike. My mouth will speak wise words; the utterance of my heart, my inner man will be intelligent understanding.”

It’s a song; it’s a proclamation; it’s a choice.

God, help me to speak wise words and give me intelligent understanding of people different than myself.