One of the advantages of cleaning a drawer—this was a file drawer where I had slipped in receipts through a slot I made by leaving the drawer slightly open is that I find something of value.
Surprise! A great accumulation of papers, receipts,
car repairs, and health information were stacked up in a great pile inside the file drawer. The pile expanded when I took it inside the house to the dining room table. But
surprise, surprise, I found a paper I was looking for, and while sorting
through my stack, I found this:
From Desmond Tutu:
"We have to stop pulling people out
of the water. We need to go upstream and find out why they are falling
in."
Right on, I thought, remembering the conversation I
watched some time ago of Desmond Tutu, the Archbishop of South Africa, and The
Dalai Lama. Those two clearly loved each other and were as mischievous as
six-year-olds, teasing each other relentlessly while sharing their spiritual
practices. At one point, one poked the other and said, "Act like a holy
man." Tutu got the Dalai Lama to take communion, and you couldn't help but
laugh when The Archbishop persuaded the Dalai Lama to dance.
The Archbishop of the Anglican Church of Southern
Africa, an advocate for civil rights, is married, has four children, and won
the Nobel Peace Prize in 1984 for his role in anti-apartheid. In 2009, he
received the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
In 1989, Tutu spoke out about the Israeli Palestinian
conflict, asserting the right of the state of Israel to its territorial
integrity and security against attacks by those who would deny its right to
exist. And now, 35 years later, we still have that conflict. Sigh.
Yet those two spiritual friends, after what they had
gone through, got together in a spirit of joy and colluded to write THE BOOK OF
JOY: How to Find Joy in the face of suffering.
Well, I have to buy that one even though it costs 16
bucks on Kindle.
When Tutu asked the Dalai Lama how long he had been
exiled, he answered 35 years, then added: "There is a Tibetan is
saying, "Whenever you have friends, that's your country, and whenever you
receive love, that's your home."
Thanks for reading. Thus, I have a reason to write
this blog, find that quote to give you, and find "The Book of Joy,"
which I intend to read.
You see, miracles happen every day. (And all the pages are in their own little file folder.)
My next to last chapter from Your Story Matters is
here:
Chapter 59
Aloha
Two months
after moving to Hawaii, Little Boy Darling turned one year old on Ground Hog’s
Day.
Neil was
on the mainland completing a project, and the rest of the family, DD, Little
Boy Darling, and I, decided to celebrate at the beach.
The
beaches on the Hilo side of the Big Island are rocky, so it is necessary to
drive a distance to enjoy a sandy beach. We aimed toward Hilo, but instead of
turning right, we turned left toward the town of Volcano and kept driving until
we came to Punaluu, Black Sands Beach.
There, the
sand is black and worn round and smooth as caviar. It is where the Hawkbill sea
turtles, giant as manhole covers and dressed like warriors in full battle
regalia, sun themselves on the warm sand.
The water
is treacherous there, but DD went in until she felt the surge and decided that
wasn't a good idea. In ancient times, the strong swimmers, the men, would dive
down, holding an empty bottle covered with a finger. At a spot where fresh
water enters the sea, they would remove their finger, allow the bottle to fill,
and stop it up again. On the surface, they would offer fresh, cold water to the
family.
Freshwater
percolates through the sand there on the beach, and it was said that in ancient
times, the turtles came there to help the children, for they dug troughs where
the freshwater could collect.
Someone
had built up the sand to form ponds about six inches deep at the surf's edge.
It was in the ponds that Little Boy Darling spent his day playing in the caviar
sand, smearing it on his legs and tasting it occasionally.
As my
daughter and her son were thus occupied, I wandered down the beach and found a
lady sitting in the sand, searching for tiny white shells that could sometimes
be found sparkling in the black sand. She was there also celebrating her
birthday with her grown son and daughter from the mainland. As her children
played in the water, the lady and I sat in the sand and visited.
She said
she and her husband used to come here and search for the tiny white shells. The
one who found the smallest shell would choose the restaurant for their dinner.
Six years ago, her husband came to the Island and bought a house, for it had
been his dream to live there. Since she loved him, she agreed to move. However,
it rained more than she could take; she couldn't find the items she wanted, she
missed her family, and she would stand in the backyard and cry. Her husband
said they would move if she was so unhappy.
She
decided that she would adjust, so she stayed, and now she won't leave even when
the kids beg her to do it.
Her
husband died two years ago, and a "friend" stole their money. She
lives on Social Security, $700.00 a month, in their little paid-for house. She
is happy. "It is ALOHA," she said. “Aloha is a way of life; look it
up. It means to give without expecting anything in return."
It also
means, "Hello, Goodbye, and I love you.
Aloha,
From
Jewell, Joyce, Jo
