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
