by Nancy Linenkugel
Contributor
On a recent gorgeous weather Sunday afternoon, friend Ann and I met at an overlook park for a picnic lunch and some long-overdue catching up. The bench we selected at this urban park was on a high plateau with a vista of a busy river far below, interesting structures across the river, and lush foliage bringing a rural feel into this town-area setting.
We brought sack lunches and juice bottles. To start our picnic we saluted each other with our juice bottles in a toast to our conversation ahead. As we both took sips, our eyes noticed a grassy area a little ways in front of us that was strewn with fast food wrappers and carry-out sacks. Ann’s professional specialty is sustainability and I’m a Franciscan, so we were two persons sitting there who should have been especially offended by the litter. However, we hadn’t seen each other for a while and so we just launched into conversation, lunch bites, more conversation, beverage sips, and continued conversation. The litter sat there spoiling the ground where it had been dropped.
In about 45 minutes Ann stopped talking in mid-sentence, opened her mouth in a who-in-the-world-is-that look, and waved hello to two hikers emerging from a marked trail below where we were sitting who were slowly ascending to where we were. Simultaneously with Ann saying “hi” and introducing themselves, Kim and Carol picked up all the litter on their way up to our bench. Ann’s lunch bag was simply a plastic tote from the grocery store so she readily offered it up as a trash container for the litter.
After talking with them for several minutes, Kim and Carol moved on to the next leg of their trail, leaving Ann and me resuming our conversation. When it was time to depart, Ann picked up the trash bag and said, “I hated looking at all that trash but didn’t want to pick it up until after we had our lunch. Of course, that would have meant going down the hill and I’m not too balanced on slick grass.” I chimed in with a similar comment, saying that I hadn’t even thought of picking up the trash but I, too, was glad it was gone.
We looked at each other and instantly chorused, “Laudato Sí.”
In my work with graduate professional students I’m forever reminding them of the difference between being owners or hired hands when they get into their administrative residencies. We use the example of a scrap of paper on the hospital floor. An owner would pick up the paper, thinking, “This is my hospital and I want to take care of it.” A hired hand might not pick up the paper, thinking, “They don’t pay me enough to do trash detail, and besides I’m going off duty and don’t have time.”
We can say the same about our poor Earth — are we owners or hired hands? “Laudato Sí ” reminds us that we’re owners.
[Sr. Nancy Linenkugel is a Sylvania Franciscan sister and chair of the department of Health Services Administration at Xavier University, Cincinnati Ohio.]