It’s natural I suppose that when we are young we simply look up to people. Whether they are real or fictional we don’t really care, charming is charming, delightful is delightful.  At some point in my youth though I realized I had a problem. I understood that an actor who played a character was a separate thing, his own person. I further understood that characters in stories were not persons you could go chat with over tea. But, then where did the magic come from? Was it in the script or in the actor, in the writer or director? I wasn’t too awfully far along in life -eleven years at most- before I discovered that sometimes actors and writers themselves weren’t very nice people. Indeed they could be very different in behavior from the persons they portrayed. Whence then came the wonderfulness?

What was I actually attracted too? I pondered over all the characters that I loved… – and if you think it odd that such a young person was prone to pondering, it might help you to know: I was an only child, I was obliged to spend quite a bit of time alone, and I preferred not to ask adults opinions because my lot tended to share far too much with a side of criticism thrown in for good measure. So, as I was saying – I pondered: what is it that makes these characters wonderful, admirable, lovable?  Gradually I deduced that it was in the behavior of the characters that the charm lay; it was their habits of goodness.

The word “virtue” was virtually unknown to me. If I’d had to give you a definition in those days, the best I’d have come up with was “a woman’s purity”, and that’s if I could have figured out the euphemism “purity” for I certainly knew the more blunt term. This is how very secular and relativistic my environment had been. Virtue, whether I had grasp of the word or not, was what my affections eventually turned to.

Dickon and Martha had a simple earthy kindness and generosity.  Badger, Rat and Mole were willing to risk their friend’s affections rather than let him destroy himself and so coordinated the first intervention I ever knew of. Mary Poppins made the most delightful things happen and Bert was such a gentleman at a time when manners were becoming extinct. Charlotte was the embodiment of agape – a word that wouldn’t come into my world for decades yet. Morticia and Gomez were so mutually self-donating that I would later pattern my approach to marriage upon their passionate goodness. I read comic books too and in these I found self-sacrifice, self-control and such a strong sense of duty that I knew finally what “hero” meant.

Understanding that it was the qualities embodied in these fictional characters that I really loved and admired freed me from getting too worked up about actors or writers. This was very good medicine in a time when the cult of celebrity was becoming a form of entertainment of its own. It also kept me free from getting emotional over musicians when I finally got hooked on popular music.

Having discovered these important distinctions at such a young age, and being quite assured by my academic record that I was in no way a prodigy, I am continuously puzzled by the fact that people who grew up in saner homes than mine never figured out that there is no call for idolizing actors, nor any other artist. Why in heavens name any adult who knows God and mercy, or failing that, amazing people such as babies, would spend time and money on celebrity worship is beyond my ken. I have to reluctantly conclude that despite all the advantages they may have had, they have not yet realized that celebrities are human.

Don’t get me wrong, there was a day when I would have loved to have sat down and had a good chat with Mr. Lucas. That would have been some day before he sold the Star Wars franchise to Disney.  Having grown up with his voice on record, there were many years when I thought Mr. Cosby would have made a fine acquaintance – now perhaps not. And I certainly wouldn’t mind yet having had a lunch or dinner with Mr. Van Dyke, as I cannot imagine how anyone who could only manage to portray nice people could be anything but nice people. So I can sympathize with the temptation to take an opportunity to meet someone whose name and face are as familiar as family. But one thing has always kept me from pursuing such temptations: there’s better game afoot.

Since these qualities were obviously so universally admired, I reasoned, then there must be real people endowed with such attributes, somewhere. I began to keep my eyes and ears open. For a very long time I found the world a little wanting in the virtue department but I was still in middle school after all. Gradually I discovered acts of kindness, moments of genuine good humor and gestures of generosity. As a bonus I found good friends. It wasn’t until Christ introduced me to himself and some of his friends though that I hit the jackpot – I met the saints!

You’ll say, “but they’re still in books” but I say “au contraire!”. I have found many walking about on this earth and I tell you they are the most delightful people. No matter what their gifts, no matter how great the work they are involved in, no matter how many important people they deal with every day, they all have the most beautiful, downright gorgeous virtue in common that makes them incredibly easy to befriend. It also allows you to really love them and yet never idolize them. It is both the most necessary virtue and the most subtle. It is humility.

There are artists of all media from whom I have benefited. They have brought pleasure, education, even wisdom at times. But give me someone who knows that they are but dust were it not for the Real Hero of the universe. That is someone I can truly rejoice in, laugh and speak of splendid things with. Those, the humble saints-in-process, those are the people I will travel miles and spend money to be with. Those are the ones I go about watching for, shaking the hedgerows and browsing the streets in search of. Be he king or pauper, brilliant or simple, let him love the Lord with all his heart and I am his fan.