“All life is an experiment. The more experiments you make
the better it is.” Ralph Waldo Emerson
Life is a strange and wondrous experiment. One travel
through it weathering the troughs in silence and exclaiming at the top of the
lungs on the peaks, but always through it all there are the constant air
pockets of negative thoughts that some time manage to coalesce and cause
turbulence in words and deeds. But that Saturday afternoon was none of those
things. It was quiet and unassuming evening, the gathering dusk and the rolling
clouds made it particularly beautiful. The sun peeked in between the clouds and
the under bellies of the clouds shimmered with gold.
There was traffic as I waited for my ride on the pavement,
when a gentle tug at my coat alerted me to a presence nearby. I looked around
and to my surprise found a short Asian fellow looking up at me.
Hmm, I wondered what could he want? Maybe a ride? Some money?
What? But he had a crooked smile. One side of his face did not follow the
happiness within, probably from the ravages of an untimely stroke, I wondered. He
looked straight into my eyes expectantly, but my screen behind my eyes must
have remained blank as I looked back at him. I could not place him.
He thrust his left hand forward and not knowing the intent,
I took it in mine. His frail and skeletal hands with a paper h thin skin
mottled with blemishes from minor traumatic subcutaneous capillary bleeds. He
shook my hand with vigor as much as he could muster and then held it. He could
see my quizzical expression and some reluctance at this acquaintance.
He looked around and nodded at an approaching lady, about
his height and around his age. She walked towards me and her face broke out in
a smile also.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said. At least she
could speak. The riddle was about to be solved.
“You,” she said with a strong Japanese accent, “saved our
Mikey.”
Mikey, Mikey…the name rattled around in my brain not evoking
any signals. I smiled back at them. And then she did something that I had seen
someone do a long time ago. She rubbed her chin and put her index finger in her
mouth as if in a thought. The genetic code did not lie. I remembered.
Mikey, it turns out was a youngster who had battled and won
against testicular cancer.
“How is Mikey?” I asked and she knew that I knew.
“Good,” she said. “Very Good,” she repeated with emphasis. “He
is a very important person at the bank now.”
“I am glad.” I said. “Give him my regards. Oh and just to
let you know,” I continued, “He saved himself. It was his strength and his will
power that helped him.” But she rejected the argument with a wave of her hand.
Her mind had been made up.
She spoke for a while and “thanks” hung like a rose in bloom
on every sentence. I felt it in my heart. The conversation slowed and then they
both just stared at me for a while without an ounce of regret or embarrassment.
We stood quietly for a while, they basked in their success at relieving themselves
of the burden to thank for their gift they had received and I stood there
feeling light on my feet basking in their good wishes.
What a strange feeling of pure joy!
My ride approached and I offered them one to their
destination, but she declined. They both waved as I left in the car and turned back
to look and found them waving as they were reduced by distance to a size of
tiny stick figures and I am sure they could not see through that ether of
separation.
Didn't I say, life is a strange and wondrous experiment? It
is!
There is magic in spoken words and the good others perceive.
There is magic in unspoken actions and handshakes with strangers. There is
magic in crooked smiles and paper-thin skin covered fragile hands. There is
magic in touch. There is magic in life!
There is magic!
“Only a life lived for others is a life worthwhile.” Albert
Einstein
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