Jacques Miles

 We walked and we walked through the endless density of an Ecuadorian jungle.  I could hear a thousand sounds all at once, but still everything seemed so quiet, so calm. At times though, our hearts did race upon hearing rustling in the bushes, but never seeing what caused them. Even though it was a sunny day, if one gazed upwards, only glowing green leaves could be seen. And those privileged rays of light that were able to pass through the canopy shined through like beams of hope in this dark, damp and mysterious place.

We walked with a man who had been born in this shadowy land of wonder, who seemed to know every tree, every rock, and every sound. With a distant look in his eyes, he told us stories of his family who lived even deeper in the jungle, several days journey away. I marveled at this young man! He saw the world so much differently then you and I. This beautiful, exotic, and enchanting place was his whole world; it was all he knew. The things we worry about on a daily basis on the outside mean nothing to him, all the pressures and stresses that befall us.

As we walked, we came upon a certain plant, tall and majestic. He then reached into his pocket and took out a small blade and then called us to come closer. He then cut the stem with a slow and steady movement. And the plant started to bleed a red liquid as if it had a soul. It bled the way you and I would if ever pricked or cut in such a manner. He then picked one of its leaves, and with the end of the stem, he dips it into this blood like liquid. He then drew close to us and started painting our faces. And, as an artist uses simple strokes, he created masterpieces. He assured us that with water his works of art would wash away. Unlike the ones that decorated his face that were made from a different plant and would last for weeks.

He revealed to us other plants that were used by his people to treat skin problems, stomach problems, aches and pains, poisonous snake bite. A myriad of infirmities that we pay thousands of dollars each year for medicines were all here on the jungle floor. I asked myself how many cures have been lost forever in order to make the world “progressive,” more “technological”. At that very moment, my eyes were opened and I could see the devastations that mankind causes when he destroys the rain forest. I now understood the so called “fanatics”, who fight for the conservation of places like these. And if you had seen and heard what I had, you would understand too. So may the labeled fanatics fight on! And may they be victorious.

My name is Jacques Miles.

And how wonderful are “Natures gifts” here in the Middle of the World…