Unexpected Blessings...
Life is full of little gems.
About eleven
years ago, I came home from a neighbor island trip for work and arrived
back on O'ahu. I was exhausted as usual. I got into my car and drove out
of the airport parking lot and headed past the Airport Post Office
towards Nimitz Highway. I peripherally noticed someone walking on the
sidewalk as I passed and gazed over. I saw an elderly Polynesian man
taking slow labored steps, while holding onto an adjacent fence which
ran along side of the sidewalk. With him, holding his hand, was a little
girl, about four or five years old, and she was carrying some kind of
big briefcase looking bag.
I turned my
attention back to the roadway and made it up to the stoplight. I looked
back in my rearview mirror once more and could still see them, now far
away from me, still making slow progress. The light turned green and I
had to make an instantaneous choice. I did. And I chuckled to myself for
having such a weak compassionate heart which seems to tie up a lot of
my scarce free time. I turned left, instead of right, and went to the
next light to make a U-Turn. I headed back and turned back down the road
and drove up to them. They weren't very far from where I last saw them.
I
rolled down my window and asked them where they were headed. The man,
an elderly Samoan in a mix of Western and traditional clothing, smiled
and said that they were headed to the bustop up the street on Nimitz
Highway. I invited them in and opened up the passenger door. I pushed
the passenger seat forward in my 1993 Camaro and the little girl climbed
into the baby car seat I had for Elliott. Then the man laboriously and painfully got in. I asked
him if he was okay and he said yes, but he had just had surgery on his
legs and didn't realize how hard it was for him to walk. He said that he
caught the bus to the Honolulu Airport Post Office to mail a very
important letter with his grand-daughter.
It
wasn't long before we passed the stoplight and turned onto Nimitz
Highway. He pointed to the approaching bus stop and said "Over there is
fine." I asked him where he had to go and he said Kunia. That was pretty
far in afternoon traffic. I glanced back at his granddaughter and she
was sound asleep in Elliott's car seat. I chuckled to myself again. I
was so tired, I wanted to go home, shower, eat and sleep. But I knew
there was only one right thing to do. So I told the man that I would
drive him home as we whizzed past the bustop. He looked at me
incredulously and protested. I told him it was okay. He asked me where I
was going. I told him home. He asked where was home. I told him Pawa'a.
Again he protested saying that was far in the opposite direction. I
laughed, patted him on his leg, and reminded him that his granddaughter
was sound asleep. He chuckled and thanked me. He told me he was so proud
of her for carrying his big briefcase bag when he found himself in too
much pain to walk.
We introduced
ourselves. He was a Christian minister in a Samoan church. We had a
delightful conversation as we slowly crawled through the afternoon
traffic. About my work with my dead ancestors. About spiritual beliefs.
About Samoan views of the bones of their kupuna. So many things. Finally
we arrived in Kunia where he had parked his truck in a lot near the
Walmart. It was a park and ride lot.
When
we arrived, we had to gently shake his granddaughter from her deep
sleep. She was sweaty from sleeping so hard from exhaustion. We all got
out of the car and he pulled some money from his wallet and tried to
give it to me for gas. I politely refused. He insisted again. I politely
declined again. His granddaughter came up to me and gave me a big hug. I
squeezed her hard, kissed her head, and blanketed her heart in all the
love I could muster at the time.
Then
the Minister approached me and we embraced exchanging words of Aloha.
Then he asked me if he could pray for me. I said certainly. And as his
granddaughter stood and watched, he put his hand on my bowed head, and
prayed a long prayer for my well-being, safety, health, and life. I was
truly humbled. I know the power of prayer. I never expected it. But my
life has benefited immensely from his simple but powerful and genuine
words. I made two friends on our collective spiritual journey, shared
their love, and my life has been amazingly awesome ever since. Mahalo no
e Ke Akua. Mahalo no my two sweet friends. I hope your dreams continue
to come true. Mine most certainly have. Much love to you...
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