"Help thy brother's boat across, and lo! Thine own has reached the shore." --Hindu Proverb
"We are the product of the lives who have touched ours." --Gordon B. Hinckley
"When ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God." --Mosiah 2:17 in The Book of Mormon
Can I be a bragging sister for a minute or two? If not--stop reading and go play Candy Crush (or whatever it is you young people like to do nowadays.)
Remember my brothers? I wrote a whole blog about them a year or two or three ago--the one where I compared them to the Ninja Turtles. Well, I have a quick--but totally true--story about "Leonardo" and "Raphael." It happened last night, and it goes like this:
Leonardo had finished work for the day--it was well after 6, and he had put in long hours for a couple of days in a row. He stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few things for his family. Outside, in the chilly now-October evening, stood a young man. He was shivering in his t-shirt, and concrete covered his boots and pants. As people walked by him, he would say, "Hablas espanol?" (Do you speak Spanish?) My brother saw a series of people shake their heads 'no' and walk on.
Leonardo speaks Portuguese, not Spanish. But he was willing to try. As Leonardo walked closer, he saw a look of desperation in this man's eyes as he said, "I'm lost. I don't know where I am."
And--in those few broken words--Leonardo was determined to help in whatever way he could. In a fairly quick and--I'm assuming--disjointed conversation, my brother found out that this man was a construction worker from a town in Northern Colorado and had been working on a project in our town. His carpool--a group of uncaring co-workers who were known to play hurtful 'jokes' on the young man--had left him at this grocery store without a coat and without a working cell phone.
Jerks. (I would tell you the real word I'm thinking in my head, but it would be inappropriate for the internet.)
As fate would have it, my brother Raphael speaks better Spanish than any other gringo I know-- and Leonardo put him on the phone with the young man--who we'll now call Carlos. So, anyway, Carlos spoke with Raphael on the phone, and--within a few short minutes--Raphael had assessed the situation, thrown his own children in the back of the car, dropped them off to be watched by Leonardo's wife, and then rushed to meet with Carlos and Leonardo at the grocery store.
As they waited for Raphael, Leonardo, having been gifted earlier that day with a rather expensive--and long sleeve--shirt, offered it to Carlos. (I can't help but think that this is now the nicest shirt that Carlos owns.) My brother also took Carlos into the grocery store and bought him dinner from the deli.
Enter Raphael who, without hesitating, told Carlos that he'd be driving him back home that night--even though it would be at least a 45 minute both to and from the destination. Leonardo went home to help watch kids. Raphael drove Carlos home.
On the car-ride to Colorado, Carlos mentioned having a wife and baby girl at home-- he was worried that they would be worried about him. He then said something to the effect of, "It's interesting how God takes care of us sometimes." Because just a mere seconds before Leonardo had approached him, Carlos had been praying that someone would be there to help him.
But the story doesn't stop there.
It turns out that Carlos hasn't been treated very well by his coworkers for the entirety of his employment here in the United States. It also turns out that Raphael is acquainted with several people who own companies similar to the one in which Carlos is now working. Suffice it to say, Carlos now has connections to other possible job opportunities.
Now, isn't it quite the coincidence that Carlos happened to cross paths with Leonardo--and, in turn, Raphael--the two people most suited to help him in his situation?
Yeah, coincidence.
So, let's apply the story to us. How many of us, in our rushed lifestyles, have been blinded to those around us saying, "I'm lost. I don't know where I am."? How many of us are turned so inward that we fail to recognize the desperation in the eyes of those whom we encounter? Worse yet, how many of us see these opportunities to show compassion yet willingly turn away?
Apply that to crisis situations we see going on in our world. Apply that to programs put in place to help others. Apply that to those we may randomly encounter on the street. Apply that to acquaintances and coworkers. Apply that to friendships. Apply that to families.
I hope that none of us are ever so hurried, or so uncaring, that we fail to act when we see another--whether it be literally, figuratively, or spiritually-- say, "I'm lost. I don't know where I am."
Because in helping others to find out where they are, maybe--just maybe--we'll add an extra measure of direction to our own lives.
"We are the product of the lives who have touched ours." --Gordon B. Hinckley
"When ye are in the service of your fellow beings, ye are only in the service of your God." --Mosiah 2:17 in The Book of Mormon
Can I be a bragging sister for a minute or two? If not--stop reading and go play Candy Crush (or whatever it is you young people like to do nowadays.)
Remember my brothers? I wrote a whole blog about them a year or two or three ago--the one where I compared them to the Ninja Turtles. Well, I have a quick--but totally true--story about "Leonardo" and "Raphael." It happened last night, and it goes like this:
Leonardo had finished work for the day--it was well after 6, and he had put in long hours for a couple of days in a row. He stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few things for his family. Outside, in the chilly now-October evening, stood a young man. He was shivering in his t-shirt, and concrete covered his boots and pants. As people walked by him, he would say, "Hablas espanol?" (Do you speak Spanish?) My brother saw a series of people shake their heads 'no' and walk on.
Leonardo speaks Portuguese, not Spanish. But he was willing to try. As Leonardo walked closer, he saw a look of desperation in this man's eyes as he said, "I'm lost. I don't know where I am."
And--in those few broken words--Leonardo was determined to help in whatever way he could. In a fairly quick and--I'm assuming--disjointed conversation, my brother found out that this man was a construction worker from a town in Northern Colorado and had been working on a project in our town. His carpool--a group of uncaring co-workers who were known to play hurtful 'jokes' on the young man--had left him at this grocery store without a coat and without a working cell phone.
Jerks. (I would tell you the real word I'm thinking in my head, but it would be inappropriate for the internet.)
As fate would have it, my brother Raphael speaks better Spanish than any other gringo I know-- and Leonardo put him on the phone with the young man--who we'll now call Carlos. So, anyway, Carlos spoke with Raphael on the phone, and--within a few short minutes--Raphael had assessed the situation, thrown his own children in the back of the car, dropped them off to be watched by Leonardo's wife, and then rushed to meet with Carlos and Leonardo at the grocery store.
As they waited for Raphael, Leonardo, having been gifted earlier that day with a rather expensive--and long sleeve--shirt, offered it to Carlos. (I can't help but think that this is now the nicest shirt that Carlos owns.) My brother also took Carlos into the grocery store and bought him dinner from the deli.
Enter Raphael who, without hesitating, told Carlos that he'd be driving him back home that night--even though it would be at least a 45 minute both to and from the destination. Leonardo went home to help watch kids. Raphael drove Carlos home.
On the car-ride to Colorado, Carlos mentioned having a wife and baby girl at home-- he was worried that they would be worried about him. He then said something to the effect of, "It's interesting how God takes care of us sometimes." Because just a mere seconds before Leonardo had approached him, Carlos had been praying that someone would be there to help him.
But the story doesn't stop there.
It turns out that Carlos hasn't been treated very well by his coworkers for the entirety of his employment here in the United States. It also turns out that Raphael is acquainted with several people who own companies similar to the one in which Carlos is now working. Suffice it to say, Carlos now has connections to other possible job opportunities.
Now, isn't it quite the coincidence that Carlos happened to cross paths with Leonardo--and, in turn, Raphael--the two people most suited to help him in his situation?
Yeah, coincidence.
So, let's apply the story to us. How many of us, in our rushed lifestyles, have been blinded to those around us saying, "I'm lost. I don't know where I am."? How many of us are turned so inward that we fail to recognize the desperation in the eyes of those whom we encounter? Worse yet, how many of us see these opportunities to show compassion yet willingly turn away?
Apply that to crisis situations we see going on in our world. Apply that to programs put in place to help others. Apply that to those we may randomly encounter on the street. Apply that to acquaintances and coworkers. Apply that to friendships. Apply that to families.
I hope that none of us are ever so hurried, or so uncaring, that we fail to act when we see another--whether it be literally, figuratively, or spiritually-- say, "I'm lost. I don't know where I am."
Because in helping others to find out where they are, maybe--just maybe--we'll add an extra measure of direction to our own lives.
No comments:
Post a Comment