When I was young, my grandparents quoted this poem frequently:
My mother says she does not care about the color of my hair;
Nor if my eyes be blue or brown;
Nor if my nose turns up or down--
It really does not matter.
And Mother says she does not care if I am dark or if I'm fair;
Or if I'm thin or if I'm fat;
She does not fret o'er things like that--
It really does not matter.
But if I cheat or tell a lie or say mean things to make folks cry;
Or if I'm rude or impolite and do not try to do the right--
Than that does really matter!
It isn't looks that make one great, it's character that seals your fate;
It's what's within your heart you see
That makes or mars your destiny
And that's what really matters!
I am routinely, as I was today, chastised by people who think my beard is unsightly and a mark of being a bad person. I actually enjoy my annual trip to BYU to see a best of show for Divine Comedy in April because I know that the presence of a bearded man in a leather jacket on the campus upsets the students more than it upsets me to be there. I am comfortable with myself and who I am, and I live a morally clean life full of things that add value to my mind, my community, and my fellow men.
There are a few reasons for which I would shave. Most of the arguments people make do not apply to me. I work in a field that does not require me to be clean shaven as long as I shower, use deodorant, and show up smelling and looking nonoffensive. In fact, I am one of the tidiest male members of the department. As far as I know, since I am single, I am ineligible for many of the stewardships in my Faith which ask or require of the men that they maintain a certain look. It isn't that I disdain the Savior or that I use the fact that he had a beard as an excuse. It's a matter of my character, and if you can't or won't see past the beard to get to know the man I really am, that is really your problem, not mine.
I will confess that I find it strange how young people can go serve missions where they represent Jesus Christ and then immediately grow a beard when they return. My sister has commented on how ironic and sad it is that they seem desperate to catch up on the life they 'missed out on' in their absentia. I am not one of those guys. I shaved regularly if not daily until I was 27. Unlike those who grow them to look mature and have people think they have character, I had character first, and then the beard came later.
The beard is not the man. I am.
My mother says she does not care about the color of my hair;
Nor if my eyes be blue or brown;
Nor if my nose turns up or down--
It really does not matter.
And Mother says she does not care if I am dark or if I'm fair;
Or if I'm thin or if I'm fat;
She does not fret o'er things like that--
It really does not matter.
But if I cheat or tell a lie or say mean things to make folks cry;
Or if I'm rude or impolite and do not try to do the right--
Than that does really matter!
It isn't looks that make one great, it's character that seals your fate;
It's what's within your heart you see
That makes or mars your destiny
And that's what really matters!
I am routinely, as I was today, chastised by people who think my beard is unsightly and a mark of being a bad person. I actually enjoy my annual trip to BYU to see a best of show for Divine Comedy in April because I know that the presence of a bearded man in a leather jacket on the campus upsets the students more than it upsets me to be there. I am comfortable with myself and who I am, and I live a morally clean life full of things that add value to my mind, my community, and my fellow men.
There are a few reasons for which I would shave. Most of the arguments people make do not apply to me. I work in a field that does not require me to be clean shaven as long as I shower, use deodorant, and show up smelling and looking nonoffensive. In fact, I am one of the tidiest male members of the department. As far as I know, since I am single, I am ineligible for many of the stewardships in my Faith which ask or require of the men that they maintain a certain look. It isn't that I disdain the Savior or that I use the fact that he had a beard as an excuse. It's a matter of my character, and if you can't or won't see past the beard to get to know the man I really am, that is really your problem, not mine.
I will confess that I find it strange how young people can go serve missions where they represent Jesus Christ and then immediately grow a beard when they return. My sister has commented on how ironic and sad it is that they seem desperate to catch up on the life they 'missed out on' in their absentia. I am not one of those guys. I shaved regularly if not daily until I was 27. Unlike those who grow them to look mature and have people think they have character, I had character first, and then the beard came later.
The beard is not the man. I am.
No comments:
Post a Comment