In William Steig’s Yellow and Pink, a delightful picture book for children, two wooden figures wake up to find themselves lying on an old newspaper in the hot sun. One figure is painted yellow, the other pink.
Suddenly, Yellow sits up and asks, ‘Do you know what we’re doing here?’
‘No,’ replies Pink. ‘I don’t even remember getting here.’
So begins a debate between the two marionettes over the origin of their existence.
Pink surveys their well-formed features and concludes, ‘Someone must have made us.’
Yellow disagrees. ‘I say we’re an accident,’ and he outlines a hypothetical scenario of how it might have happened.
A branch might have broken off a tree and fallen on a sharp rock, splitting one end of the branch into two legs. Then the wind might have sent it tumbling down a hill until it was chipped and shaped. Perhaps a flash of lightning struck in such a way as to splinter the wood into arms and fingers. Eyes might have been formed by woodpeckers boring in the wood.
‘With enough time, a thousand, a million, maybe two and a half million years, lots of unusual things could happen,’ says Yellow. ‘Why not us?’
The two figures argue back and forth.
In the end, the discussion is cut off by the appearance of a man coming out of a nearby house. He strolls over to the marionettes, picks them up, and checks their paint.
‘Nice and dry,’ he comments, and tucking them under his arm, he heads back toward the house.
Peering out from under the man’s arm, Yellow whispers in Pink’s ear, ‘Who is this guy?’ (Colson, Charles, How Now Shall We Live? 97).
Every marionette or puppet has a maker. Everybody has a Creator. An Intelligent Designer is behind what we see; the work of an Artists’ hand is evident. Even a children’s book gets it. Our world is not the product of chance, or accident, but of intelligent design. I think I’ll stay “pink.”