A worthy mantra for any life is, "If you are able to do good, then do good." A hopeful progression would be that repeated acts of kindness will become habit, and repeated enforcement of a habit becomes character. We're not always privy to the results of these "random acts of kindness" or how far reaching a simple act for us can immensely and deeply affect another. However, every now and then the universe pulls back the curtains to give us a glimpse of how profound some of our actions can be.
During the summer of 2007, Andrea and I were part of a church team sent to Tanzania to explore a partnership with the Anglican Diocese of Tanganyika. A week or so before departure, another member of the congregation dropped by the house with a handful of Ugandan shillings. Although she knew we were going to Tanzania and not Uganda, she thought they might possibly come in handy. I thanked her and I went back to finishing my packing.
On board the plane, coach had 3 sections separated by aisles. The entire team was seated together on the port side (that's left for you delinquent landlubbers) behind a bulkhead that separated us from the galley in front of us. After an hour in the air, flight attendants approached the people sitting in the center section against the bulkhead, asking if they'd like to move to business class to which they readily agreed. It seems there was a mother with a newborn in the aft section who was having a little trouble handling a newborn as well as her toddler daughter. The flight crew could assemble a small bassinet to assist her, but it had to be attached to a bulkhead - thus the reason for the unexpected seat upgrade for our neighbors.
After the bassinet was assembled, the young mother came forward with her infant and toddler in tow. All the mothers on the team immediately swooped in to help her. In conversations with our new neighbor, we learned she and her husband were from Uganda. They were flown over to train folks in Florida who were going to Africa on short term projects like ours. She went into labor during that time and delivered a healthy baby girl. However, when it was time for them to fly back home, doctors would not clear her or her infant to fly so soon after birth. Unfortunately, her husband was forced to fly ahead without her. She was now taking this trans-Atlantic flight alone. Or so she thought. Over the course of the 12 hour flight, these ladies on our team took turns holding and playing with the infant so her mother could take a nap, eat, or just relax.
Somewhere over North Africa, Andrea sat upright and gasped, catching me by surprise. I just looked at her, "What's wrong?"
"Where are those Ugandan shillings?" I had to think through my packing process to remember. Back in Laurel, my assumption was there would be no need for those shillings before our arrival in Tanzania, so it would have been logical to tuck them deep inside my checked bags. For whatever reason, I stuck them in my carry on gear.
I unbuckled and stood in the aisle rummaging through all the luggage in the overhead bin. When I found my bag I went from pocket to pocket and found the multicolored denominations. After a brief powwow with other team members, the bills were presented to our new friend. She immediately declined, but we persuaded her that we'd likely have little use of Ugandan currency in Tanzania.
With that, she graciously accepted the gift and told us another part of her story. The timing of her return trip was unfortunate as her husband was called in on a field assignment just prior to her scheduled arrival. He would not be able to meet her at the airport in Entebbe, and she had been unable to make other arrangements before the flight. She boarded the plane not knowing exactly how she was going to get home from the airport. Apparently, the sum we'd given her would be sufficient to get her the rest of the way home safely.
Were we the unwitting answers to her prayer that allowed this young mother the audacity to commence a journey whose end was uncertain, or was she the beneficiary of a series of random events starting with a congregant giving me a handful of foreign currency? For her, the prime motivator for our good deed was irrelevant. Throughout our time together, she was unflappably calm with a deep assurance that although she didn't know how, everything would be alright, and we were privileged to be spectators.
No comments:
Post a Comment