What's your stereotypical image of a woman, a man, a college student, an octogenarian, someone black, someone white, someone who smokes? An even more unnerving question: how do you think others stereotype you? Wouldn't it be refreshing not to pre-judge our neighbors? Imagine the doors that would open if we met one another not only free of preconceptions, but certain of our kinship—thanks to God, our common Father-Mother.

In the next pages, you'll see what a difference it makes to drop sterotyped impressions and find the real man and woman of God's creating.

RACE

During college, I got a job over the Christmas break working at a department store. The manager of the department to which I was assigned took a dislike to me, and I to him. One day when I came home from work, I told a close family friend that he disliked me because I was white and he was black. I also thought he was jealous that I was going to school at a private college. He on the other hand was working full time and going to a local college.

She asked me what man I was seeing in my consciousness. I understood what she meant and knew that I should be seeing the man of God's creating. God knows nothing of race or status. God loves all His children equally. God's child is not denied anything good. I began to make a mental list of all the good qualities God's man expresses and to look for them in this individual. In a short time my relationship with him became very harmonious. We even began to talk about college classes we were taking and what we were learning from them. By the time I was ready to go back to school, we were friends.

David G. Shields

RELIGION

My husband and I follow different religions. While contemplating marriage, neither of us took the issue lightly. We had many discussions, and I prayed earnestly about whether we should marry.

After we married all was well, until the children came along. It seemed as though I did all the giving and he did all the taking where religion was concerned. He also began to express harsh feelings toward my religion. I continued to pray, but the situation remained unresolved.

Then a point came when he wanted the children to perform a ritual that would have them recognized as belonging to his religion. Although I remained quiet for a time, one day while I was working in the yard, weeding, I started fuming about the event. I was wondering why I was so involved with "these people" and "their religion." I was becoming angrier and angrier.

Then, a clear, strong voice said with authority in my consciousness: "Rita! God does not know what denomination you belong to." I was so startled that He didn't know me by denomination that I dropped the weeds and stood up. The message continued, "And God does not know what denomination your husband is." That got my attention, but I was still slightly smug, so I asked, "Then what does God know?" Immediately the answer came, "God knows that you are all His children and He loves you all very much."

An all-embracing love overwhelmed me, and the anger was gone. There just wasn't any room for it. I glimpsed the oneness of God and His creation, without a hint of denominationalism or creed. For the first time in a while I felt free, peaceful, and happy.

The event came and went. Years have passed, and there has been much softening on the religious front. I also have changed, although I am still deeply devoted to my religion. Yet now, I approach people from the standpoint of their spiritual identity as children of the one God. And there's new meaning for me when I read Galatians 3:28, "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus."

Rita Polatin

YOUTH

A few years ago in Boston, two young men moved into the apartment next door to us. Before too long my wife and I realized two things: they really liked music, and they liked to stay up late.

Because our bedroom shared a common wall with their apartment, we were aware of their late-night activities. Occasionally, our sleep was disturbed nearly all night long.

I don't recall how long this went on, but I do remember how I approached it. First, I endeavored to see the situation from a spiritual perspective. I knew that it was right for everyone to have a comfortable, secure home, and that our neighbors' comfort could not interfere with ours. I also knew that since we are all children of God, there should be no friction between us. I was determined to find a solution that would be satisfactory to all concerned. I resisted the temptation to think of my neighbors as uncaring or inconsiderate. Instead I saw them as thoughtful young men who happened to like music—really no different from myself.

Then I went to visit my neighbors. In a friendly but direct way I told them that because of the work my wife and I did, we had to be able to sleep at night. I said I didn't mind if they played music during the day, but that in the evening we needed to have it somewhat quiet, and that after 11 p.m. it should be completely quiet.

I expressed myself simply and with respect for them. I felt sure that my request was principled and that they would see it as reasonable. They did. They apologized for disturbing us, and promised to be quieter and more considerate in the future. From that day on, we had an excellent relationship, which continued for several years, until we eventually moved out of the building.

David D. Hohle

AGE

During one summer break from graduate school, I learned an important lesson about the deceptiveness of age. While interning at a magazine, I looked up from my desk one afternoon to find an elderly woman standing there in a frumpy dress, flowered hat, and stout black shoes. She was even carrying a shopping bag. "What is this little old lady doing here?" I thought.

A moment later, a co-worker introduced her to me. That's when I learned that this woman was a very well-respected writer whose work I deeply admired. Not only had she contributed many lucid, insightful articles to the very magazine I was working for, but she was still writing and being published on a regular basis. I was shocked. I'd been fooled by the "little old ladyish" appearance. Right then and there I resolved to change my thinking about age, and I prayed for God's help in doing this.

I could see that the qualities this woman expressed in her writing—vigor, mental acuity, and insight into contemporary trends, for example—were the exact opposite of common stereotypes about elderly people as frail, mentally inactive, and stuck in the past. God is the source of all true identity, and each of us, in truth, reflects His/Her undeclining goodness and usefulness. I couldn't imagine God, eternal Life, getting old, so then why was I thinking that the spiritual identity of any God's children could decline? Prevalent notions about age are irrelevant to an individual's capacity to express Life.

After this experience I began to look at the appearance of old age in the same way I would look at a disguise, and I vowed not to be fooled into believing it or basing my expectations on it. This has opened up new opportunities for me to learn from people of all ages, and to value everyone's ability to reflect God in fresh, useful ways each day.

Denise Ellott Shane

APPEARANCES

While I was waiting in a beauty shop, a man sat down beside me. We exchanged pleasantries. Then he lighted up the foulest-smelling cigar imaginable, and began to smoke. He smoked so vigorously, it was a wonder that the ceiling fire detectors didn't go off! The heavy smoke was turning the room blue, and I wasn't too pleasing a color myself. I have to admit I was indulging some rather unloving appraisals of this man.

I knew better than to see this man, or anyone for that matter, as something other than the likeness of God. I'm very familiar with and appreciative of the Biblical injunction "Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgment" (John 7:24). But at that moment, the smoke that was getting in my eyes was unappealing and unwelcome, and I didn't think very highly of the man who was doing the smoking.

About that time a hairdresser came over to tell him that his mother was ready to leave. He put out the cigar, and went to get her. He was so dear and tender with her—and with all those who had helped her—that his entire demeanor was most impressive. With great care he assisted her out the door. I realized that the endearing qualities he was expressing were, in fact, overshadowing the stereotyped image that I had earlier connected with him.

I re-learned that day in the beauty shop to look for the good, the real, and to be undeceived by an objectionable appearance—by any presentation that doesn't have its origin in God, the only true cause and creator.

In her Miscellaneous Writings, Mary Baker Eddy writes, "Believing a lie veils the truth from our vision ..." (p. 62). We find blessing in refusing to believe a lie and in unveiling the spiritual truth of God's creation, which He, Himself, delineated as "very good" (Gen. 1:31).

Jean Stark Hebenstreit