from trevor’s encyclopedia of beauty in the plain, genius in the simple, wonder in the ordinary and courage in the human

When my little brother Carver was three, we were sitting together under the old apple tree in the far corner of our yard.

- Carver, be very quiet, look very clos’ly, and listen very care’fly, okay?

- ‘Kay!

- What color is the grass?

- Gween!

- Yep!  Do you know what's special about the color green?

- Gween is special?

- Yep, it's special. Look under you. Look out over poppa's fields. Look up in the trees. Green is under our feet. Green is over our heads. Green is all around us. Green is everywhere.

- Gween is evweewheyah.

- Yep.

I put my hands on the ground, pushed my fingers into the soil, and pulled away a patch of grass.

- What is this?

- It's duwt.

- Well, really, it's soil. Poppa taught me the difference between dirt and soil and now I want to teach it to you, okay?

- 'kay.

- The word “dirt” comes from the old, old word “drit”, which means “excrement”. “Excrement” is just a big word that means “poop”.

- Poop!

- Ha! Dirt is the bottom part of the ground. It's used to make a road or a floor.

The word “soil” comes from the old, old words “solium” and “solum”, which mean “seat” and “ground”.

Soil is the top part of the ground. It helps plants grow. It's black and brown. It's made up of helpful things. 

Are you lis’nin’?

- Yep!

- Well, I want you to remember that ev’rybody in the world is like the green grass. We’re all the same. We all have hearts and minds and souls and bodies. No person is better than another. We’re all good and we’re all green on the inside.

- ‘Kay! We’ew aw good and aw gween on th’ inside!

- Yep, but if it’s hot ev’ry day and it don’t rain for weeks and weeks, the grass gets brittle and ugly. Some people are like that on the outside. Life just dries them up and they do ugly things. You gonna’ see them and hear them when we go to town with momma and Poppa. 

They gonna’ tell us that we’re dirt, that we’re only good for being used, that we’re no better’n “poop.” 

Ev’ry time that happ’ns, I want you to remember that we’re not dirt. 

I want you to reach out and hold my hand, and when you feel my hand I want you to remember that we’re soil, that we he’p the earth grow, that we’re good in the world. 

Can you do that? 

Can you hold my hand? 

Can you remember that? 

Can you remember that we’re soil?

Carver reached out his toddling hand to me. 

I took it gently into my own hand. 

We are light. 

We are green. 

We are soil. 

We are.