“
The Miracle Of ‘Paying Forward’ A Blessing, That Truly Makes The Angels Sing “
05/28/12
My dearest, kindest friends, and ever-loyal readers,
you know you have my greatest thanks, and loving gratitude.
Sometimes, when I am feeling particularly bad, in a
thousand agonies, whose ‘global pain’ is relentless, and often makes me cry; I
rock back and forth, and cry for all of us; for so many have their own hellish
pain, and/or mental anguish that never seems to abate. Or a sadness, or a sorrow, or needs that bear
down upon one’s shoulders, causing me to wonder if there’s any sort of
happiness left in the world.
And I would ever wish you in less pain, whether
physical, or mental, and a respite from care, and all of your accumulated
grief.
Sometimes, it helps (a little, anyway) to hear a
story that elevates, and makes our very beings that much stronger; for hope,
and demonstrated love is such a powerful anodyne.
And so—my dearest friends—if I may, I want to weave
a tale to tell you that even simple faith and good helps us to find our true
radiance;
and even if this story it makes you cry (as it did
me), the tears were as a cleansing, and refreshing stream to wash-away the
lines of care and subsequent despair, even if for just a little while.
Because a ‘life’ lesson learned is not quickly
forgot, nor should it ever be. And so my
offering to you this time, is one of joy that, in remembering, will always
serve to warm our hearts, to better help us through the bad times.
At
least, that is my full intention.
“
The Miracle Of ‘Paying Forward’ A Blessing, That Truly Makes The Angels Sing “
I consider myself most fortunate to have made a
friend, some four years ago, when we both happened to be in a nursing home
rehab…she, for a recent stroke, and me, to try to recover from the ill after
effects of having had my appendix removed too late.
I was immediately drawn to the sound of her always
kind and pleasant voice, and so, wheeled myself in wheelchair down to her room,
to strike up an amiable conversation. At
the time, neither of us knew from those unusual beginnings would emerge a
lasting friendship to this day.
What struck me was her kindness, and her generosity
of heart; a musical voice and laugh that belied her pain. And soon I discovered that she was at her
happiest, whenever she could ‘do’ something for someone else.
Of course, there were times, when she was taken full
advantage of, by dissembling individuals who needed cash for a mortgage
payment; who needed money to repair their cars, and once—that I recall—she paid
for a person’s veterinary bill. And, of
course, has yet to see the first penny paid back, nor, given the time which has
elapsed, will probably never, ever be paid back.
And these ‘loans’ are but a hardship for her, as she
tries to live, as do I, on nothing, and frequently must do without, after all
the bills have been paid. I’m sure thousands of us at MDJ experience the same.
She has a niece and ‘nephew’ who—frankly—are
self-serving, immature, little shits, who BTW, also owe her tons of money.
You’d think, that in some measure of gratitude, at
Thanksgiving, they might call her up, and take her out for a wonderful,
Thanksgiving meal; but they are enmeshed in their own lives (until they need
something of her), and so, she faced another Thanksgiving alone, in a too-quiet
apartment, the holiday, in not being in any way a holiday, was just another,
empty day.
My friend who now can hardly walk, for an unending sharpness
of such pain, so that she can only take a few steps at a time, and needs a
walker, and electric cart, is diabetic, older, and legally blind, and is too
often left alone, has too many empty holidays like that.
And even though I telephoned her, to wish her all
the blessings of the day to try—without much luck--to somehow cheer her up, there
was a quiet knock upon her door. I hung
up then so she could find out who it was.
At the time, her Primary had ordered she be seen by
a nursing service, and, at the door was an unknown woman with her daughter, to
bring my friend a paper, grocery bag FULL of Thanksgiving food. This, my dear friend, in such a state of rare
excitement, told me later.
There was turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, rolls,
green bean casserole, and, at the bottom of the bag, a small, entire pumpkin
pie, with a container of whipped topping to put on top.
The lady, smiling said, “I helped make the mashed
potatoes!” And so it seemed that this lady had a friend at the agency, who—with
her family—instead of giving Christmas gifts, worked on these wonderful food
‘baskets’ to have delivered to all the agency’s ‘shut in’ clients.
As all this food was brought out and given to my
friend, she teared-up, and began to cry.
From a nothing day, my friend could suddenly have
her favorite: a sandwich made of turkey, dressing, cranberry sauce, and mayonnaise
on toast. It happens to be one of my
all-time favorites, too!
And, had the story ended there, it would have been
heartwarming enough for a blurb in ‘Reader’s Digest’.
But, about two weeks later, my friend got a call
from the lady who had personally supervised the Thanksgiving mashed potatoes,
for, it, and my dear friend’s reaction had proved—somehow-- to be some vital
life story to the lady’s daughter, about how those with nothing are so honestly
grateful—really—for any kindness shown.
The lady mentioned that, as Christmas was coming up,
she and HER family proposed something miraculous to my friend.
She said in effect, “If you could have anything at all
you wanted to eat, price NO consideration, what would it be? We live not far
from ‘The Lone Star Steakhouse’, so…think about it; ANYTHING that you might
want. Again, no limit as to price.” And to call, and let her know.
Now I know, my dearest friends and readers at MDJ,
too often we hardly have enough to pay the bills, or try to save the house, so
that food is often treated as a secondary expense; how many times, without
counting, have you, or you and your family have had to fall back on cheap, bulk
food. Tasteless, mostly; starch
predominantly, as you strive for that which is edible and filling, to answer
poorly to a need in assuaging hunger pains, as I do—myself—to find something to
eat, from rice to PB&J’s, often without the ‘J’; on more than one occasion
I have dined, standing at the sink, on mayonnaise sandwiches, never mind the
need for protein, or to count calories, as anything remotely food-like in the
house is what we have to rely on.
When my friend told me, I asked her what she had
been thinking of, for such a grand, and unbelievable offer required lots of
thought and due deliberation.
She told me that, in day-dreaming she envisioned
steak; a porterhouse two inches thick that overlapped the plate.
Of monstrous shrimp cocktails, with the most
enormous shrimp that could be had. And
baked potatoes loaded up with real butter, and tons of sour cream.
Her dreams went on to where they picked out for her,
the largest lobster in the tank, at least a three-pounder, prepared, and
already stripped from its shell, to dip in a large bowl of melted butter. What could be more delicious? And then to finish off with a huge piece of
New York cheesecake covered in chocolate.
And, on all this she could have eaten well for
several days at least, while savoring every, single bite. Who wouldn’t, faced
with such a feast?
All these foods were as dreams in themselves,
especially as she now is terribly poor, and, since her dear husband died, some
seventeen years before, she dimly, now, recalled these foods in a kind of
disbelieving awe.
And so, for almost a week she thought of it, letting
her imagination soar, for the lady’s words of
“anything”, and, “no limit as to price”, she told me that it might
easily come to $150.00 or slightly more.
And all for one, knock-down, drag-out epic meal that she would have
remembered, both for the kindness of the offer, and—of course—for the delicious
food, itself.
But, my joyous friends, this is where the miracle,
passed down, begins.
When she telephoned the lady, she first thanked her
for such an act of generosity and kindness.
But my friend had been thinking about it, and had
decided, hoping in no way to offend.
She said to the lady, “I know about how much my
wonderful meal might come to, and while I would enjoy it, still, that cost
would make a lot of spaghetti, to take to a local homeless shelter so that they
might have a hot, and home cooked meal over the holidays, and there would be
sufficient spaghetti to feed everyone there, with maybe some left over for the
next day.
The lady was not only not offended, but was moved,
herself, to tears, and…daughter too, for my friend was willingly giving up a
chance to revel in wonderment of one person’s thoughtfulness, and, let’s be
frank, as humans, she did think of all that glorious food.
But took, instead, a greater joy, in knowing that
some sixty people would be fed spaghetti loaded with meat, and cheese, and
toasted garlic bread.
And warmed herself to sleep, imagining happy,
stuffed, children having real protein for a change; in having little stomachs
full, to run around with spaghetti sauce still opon their faces.
From what I later heard, the unexpecting, and
surprised shelter leaders were delighted, and effusive in their thanks.
Though they will never know my friend, or even of
her generosity; yet, to be in such a somber and depressing place, where all
hopes are very nearly gone, and they may think themselves forgotten,
My dear friend passed up a ‘once-in-a-lifetime’
chance, to have wonderful treats the kind of which she hadn’t seen in years,
and years, still…she passed a major blessing on, with no thought of herself.
Which truly makes the angels sing, amid a flood of
evanescent tears of joy, to assure her place in Heaven.
Now I realize what ‘giving’ means: to give
altruistically to someone who has less, and is despairing. To try to help in whatever even small way I
can; for example, if—in my cobwebbed cabinets—I may find two cans of corn,
surely, there is someone for whom that might be dinner. For I may be only hungry, yet, they may be
starving.
I understand that so many at MDJ suffer fully as I
do, with near-unending pain, or mental anguish, or with brutal, self-serving
spouses, or dysfunctional children, trying to live on fumes, just to keep a
roof over our heads, and pay the bills, while trying to keep fed, you can still
report abuse, or, make room at your crowded table for a next-door senior, who
has nobody.
And, too many times, there just seems to be NO
blessings to be had, much less pay forward.
So…you do what you can do. And if you can still share SOMETHING, be it
neglected clothes, or whatever, little, extra comes your way, perhaps in giving
of yourself, the knowledge that you’ve helped, somehow, I can almost guarantee
it will help you to feel better, and to add some needed harmony to the house.
The ‘gift’ becomes self-serving and selfish when you
actively expect thanks, to somehow bolster your own sense of having done that
which was right, while—perhaps—mentioning to the prospective donor how much it
cost you, both in time and effort, making sure they know at what a real cost of
how much you had to spend. For, all of these things cheapen the ‘blessing’,
until it is it is a blessing no longer, but a measure of your own trials, and
discontents.
If anything—then—I would urge you to consider
stepping back away from that which you would care to pass along. Remove from it
your desire to be noticed, and rewarded for your seeming goodness, for
it—too—will turn an altruistic kindness into something premeditated,
and…frankly ugly.
Did you know that ‘blessings’ paid forward have a
‘boomerang’ effect, that cheers both of you, and, as it is paid forward
grows—in spirit like an avalanche,
For it is truly hoped that, as it advances, the
goodness grows with it; you really need know how or where. But yet a seed of hope is planted; and, like
my friend who willingly gave up a dream, to pass it along, not just one person
was helped, but fifty or sixty…and their precious children,
And those wonderful acts of sacrifice do not go
unnoticed, for those at the shelter will know of ‘someone’s’ kindness.
If anything, it will tell you that you are not
alone; we all—indeed—are all in this together.
And I wish so much that from that sense of strength, you will find new
purpose, a sense of hope, and, lessened pain.
I only ask you think of it; and if you have, in
fact, nothing currently to give, you can—in your nightly prayers gives thanks
for—really—all you DO have, and in your prayers, you can pray for hope, health,
and deliverance for those who have even less than do we, and are, by default
nameless and forgotten. Pray for their
peace, as well as peace for yourself; and in shame, I must confess to you—my
very, dearest, sweetest friends—too often, my own prayers are scattered, like a
freight train, pulling an unaccountable number of cars, I ask (no, rather,
plead) for some many venal things, like giving God a Santa’s wish list of
‘things’ I think I need, whether it be a legitimate (perhaps) request for end
of pain, and mental conditions, to asking, without pride, for money to help me
pay down somehow, a maxxed-out credit card, to having more money coming into
the house, and a subsequent relief from all my financial woes.
Thank Heaven’s for my own soul’s sake, I pray for
all at MDJ., my dearest friends who have befriended me, that your pain and
despairing be made whole again, and that you arrive to a place where you are
not afraid, and know no need, and are happy once again, so that you may truly
delight in life, in love, as gently cared for by friends and family, who would
do almost anything to see you finally pain-free, and joyous.
I will admit to you (as I have doubtlessly done, so
many times before), although I do not have a lot ( and this I would ask you to
please give great consideration to), I still have a roof over my head, some
food, and hot water, and air-conditioning. I would NEVER knowingly watch a
friend’s fall from grace, to be thrown out in the streets; for in my love for
them, I would gladly take them in until they had re-established
themselves. How could I do
otherwise? While making some claim to
humanity?
I ask you, please, to think of these things; how
grateful would YOU be to be taken in and comforted, when there was no hope
left; as many people (such as myself) could not live out in the woods,
homeless, starving; for I am more fragile that I think, and rather would be
dead.
For, blessings both large and small can be passed
forward, in ways that you may never know.
The point is that it is not important for you to know, but, rather, just
to act in a time or place, where blessings are born.
No matter how much is your pain, to speak to others
politely, or to converse to a senior is still a start.
And if you are always vigilant, and, with your cell
phones, take videos, and report spousal, child or pet abuse, in ridding the
world of one, small, but telling evil, you have taken strides to emphasize the
good. And, who knows if, in doing so, a
precious life might have been saved? How wonderful is that, my dear, dear
friends?
And, who knows? Sometime when you are in agony, in
trouble, have forgotten your way in life, or are lost, some stranger may come
up to you (and you will be strangely not alarmed, somehow) to say to you,
“Don’t be afraid. I can help.” You may
be in despair, trying to feed your family near the end of the month, with NO
chance of any, extra money coming in; you may be stranded, somewhere, in your
car too close to evening and getting dark, either broken down, or out of gas,
and, who—frankly, considering our debilitating illnesses and pain can even try
to change a tire?
So I would kindly ask of you, dear friends, to
consider the magnitude of deciding to feed a homeless shelter instead.
And, when you do pay forward a blessing, by all
means ( if you so believe) to offer up all, as a gift to the Creator, that it
may prove to Him to be a happy, wondrous thing.
For in that basic equation of: A + B, you become the
‘ + ‘, that steps away, when giving thanks that a blessing has been wonderfully
passed forward.
For, every time you offer up even some slight thanks
to—perhaps—an Infant King.
You will be truly blessed, my friends, and as glad,
my dearest friends, to hear the angels sing!
Please
always know I love you,
‘Zahc’/Charles
P.S. Today is Memorial Day; please consider all that you been given, and who made that possible.
