We are shown a picture; there are more of us. In this picture is a house. All you can see is the front. There are four windows and two stories; the roof is brown; maybe gray (we are slightly colorblind, so we can’t tell.) There are bushes in the yard (we are counting them – one,two,three,four five and six all in a breathless rush. We are excited; this is learning something we already know, but haven’t hung onto quite yet.)
The house is painted white. Or at least the front of it is. (You will understand in a moment.)
Questions are asked. FIRM old questions. And this is the single one that stands out most in my mind.
“WHAT color is the house?”
And of course we had answered: “It is white.”
That is wrong of course.
We should have answered this one correctly (stab of pain; memory perhaps of a backslapping across the face some? Why do I taste blood in my mouth?)
The correct answer was (and we know for we were given):
“The FRONT of the house is WHITE and we do not KNOW what the rest of the house is.” For that part of the house (the sides and stuff) – are unknown. We cannot see them in the darkness; in that own picture we own in the back of our mind. Only the front of the house is shown.
And that’s how we learned not to make assumptions on stuff we’d never see – not until we’d checked things out.
It’s a lesson I need to keep on reminding ones’ self.