A Reflection Of Our Soul

Uncle Bubba got a new Wal-Mart store in his small town and he wondered about the conscience of that Sam Walton fella. He wondered if ol' Sam died happy with the way that his stores have blighted our American panorama much like Dutch elm disease slowly traveled the world's landscape and ravaged the majestic trees. You see, Bubbie's small town all ready had a Wal-Mart store. Admittedly, it was a small storefront by Wal-Mart standards, located in a plaza with a handful of other businesses; a grocery store, three restaurants, and a barber shop. But somehow the Walton industry decided that they needed a new store in a new location. So five miles down the road, on the southern edge of town, they began cutting down trees and clearing the landscape of underbrush. They tore up the ground only to level it and cover it in concrete and asphalt. They built their new building to house the store, which by the way, is not much bigger than the old store, if at all. Then they cleared out the old store of all that they couldn't sell and moved south for the grand opening. Uncle Bubba was working out of town during most of this event. As you know, he has been traveling a lot for work. But this last trip home brought him down Main St. past the old Wal-Mart location. His heart sank as he laid eyes on the empty parking lot with the un-mown grass and the vacant, disheveled storefront. The ugliness was exacerbated by an outline of letters spelling Wal-Mart on a begrimed blue banner above the dark, impassive doors. Several vehicles dotted the parking lot long the edge of the plaza where the other businesses were obviously contending to carry on.

It was then that Uncle Bubba was reminded of something a sage cowboy had once told him; that his horse is a reflection of his soul. It was there, staring at the scar that was left on his hometown that he was reminded that our world, the earth is a reflection of our soul. In Bubbie's view, if we prioritize it's commercialization then our reflected value is only in the landscape's short term monetary value. There is less of, or virtually no value in Nature or sustenance for the future. The condition of which the Walton's left the old Wal-Mart store is a metaphor for the condition of our collective souls. Our silent acceptance of their substandard tenancy is a reflection on us. We are no better than the corporate devils that scourge the land and march off in the name of good business.