First of all, what is peace? Absence of conflict? When you consider that the universe is a tissue of infinitesimal conflicts of creation and destruction, probably not. Conflicting air temperatures circulate the planet's air supply and magnets wouldn't exist without their conflicting polar energies. Even our sense of vision is a byproduct of contrasts across the retina--without those conflicts of light and dark, we go blind.

So, is a fluttering leaf less at peace than a still one? Probably not. When nations are at peace they still argue bitterly about small things. So if we question our metaphors for peace--stillness, tranquillity, ease, relaxation, quiet--beneath the surface we see that they are really just names for rest periods between times of activity.

Peace is something very different. Peace is well-governed activity. Peace accepts contrasts and conflicts and does its best to live with them. In our bustling, imperfect, multicultural world, peace can't be taught by telling people to be peaceful. Peace can only be taught by developing respect for the lives of others. For other races and societies, other religions, and other linguistic groups. And by pointing out the universal experiences we all share, no matter how different we may appear.

It is in pointing out the universals we all share that storytelling can be a powerful tool. Over the years I've collected hundreds of stories from cultures ranging from the Australian Aboriginal to the Classical Grecian. Yet all these tales highlight universal human virtues like honesty, respect, perseverance, courage, compassion, and loyalty. Unlike morals, which vary explosively between groups, these universal virtues tend to be required learning in just about every culture, from quiet village to crowded city.

The Blossom Tree, a Tibetan folktale about a tree, a king, and the faithful kusha grass nobody ever notices, is about the loyal meek helping the powerful strong; but so is The Mouse and the Lion, Aesop's famous tale of a lion nibbled from a stout net and saved. The Tale of the Tree, a Bantu folktale, is about perseverance and memory; but so is my four-hour version of Homer's The Odyssey. The Little Shepherd, an Italian fairytale, is about courage and cleverness, but so is Theft of Fire, a Maidu Native American tale about brave animals stealing back fire from Thunder himself. Abe Lincoln's Letter to his Brother, wherein Abe refuses his sibling another loan is about responsibility and honesty, but so is The Honest Man and the Gold, an old Jewish folktale from the Midrash.

By listening to these universal tales, children recognize that what is valued in their culture is valued in other, profoundly different ones-- cultures from far away, where people look and seem to behave very differently. They learn about other folkways and beliefs in a good light. They are entertained through their imaginations. And the hidden message is: at the level of the human spirit, we are all the same.

Can stories teach peace? Not directly. But if we can teach our children these universal virtues, then peace will be the natural outcome, no matter what petty conflicts our children encounter.

© 1997 Odds Bodkin