Danger Zone

Lately I've run into a lot of gay-bashing online and on the news. Given the political clime, it's not surprising. It's just sad. This blog post is not to point any fingers (you already know who you are), it's meant as a warning - to all.

When, in your mind / heart you bind another to a set of laws, rules or restrictions, you yourself are bound to the same set of laws, rules and restrictions. Most prefer the "pick and choose" method, whereby they pick one rule (such as homosexual sex) and forget that God will now hold them strictly and personally accountable for the rest of the package - not the person to whom they point their fingers.

Christ warned us of this time after time. There's the Golden Rule (Do unto others as you would have done unto you) and the Lord's Prayer and other teachings where He clearly states we must forgive the mistakes of all others or our own will not be forgiven.

I can rant far and wide on this subject, but I only have limited time this morning. So I will say it bluntly. When you hold another person to ONE law in the Old Testament, you bind yourself - not the other - to ALL the laws of the Old Testament. Now ask yourself, do you:

• Eat shrimp, lobster, clams, or any other shellfish? (Leviticus 11:10)
• Round out your hair, trim your beard or - perish the thought! - shave? (Leviticus 19:27)
• Play football or touch something made with pigskin leather? (Leviticus 11:8)
• Eat bacon, sausage, ham, or pork? (Leviticus 11:8)
• Eat or touch any on the long list of animals? (Leviticus 11)
• Eat anything that is not Kosher or prepared in a Kosher manner? (same)
• Touch a dead body (even a beloved pet, family member or friend who departed)? Numbers 19:11
• Wear polyester or any other cloth that is made of more than one type of fiber (any percent)? Double check your shoes. (Leviticus 19:19)
• Have a tattoo or body piercings (including ear lobes)? (Leviticus 19:28)
• Read the horoscope or open a fortune cookie? (Leviticus 19:31)

Do we continue to point fingers?

Do we see "sin" in others but not ourselves?

Or do we remove the plank that blinds us even today?

~ESA

Hope Lives!

A few weeks ago, I wrote Mama Bird about the baby bird I was watching that day. At that time, it was only a ball of fluff with a few feathers just starting to come in. Since then, many have asked how Hope has been doing.

Hope is actually quite well, and growing quickly. (S)he flies, lives outdoors full time, interacts with other birds, and hunts for food now. But unlike the brothers and sisters of her nest, (s)he still comes when called.

I met Hope once again this morning, nose-to-beak, and I wanted to share a few snapshots with my readers too. :D

How quickly children grow up...

~ ESA

 

Not-so-Holy Words

In my studies, I've learned God is well beyond human understanding. While I will never know what thoughts and plans crosses God's mind from well beyond space and time, I still ponder things...

I am sure I am not the only one who reads through the bible and wonders how the God of the Hebrews, YHWH, be the same loving, forgiving Father of whom Christs speaks so devotedly. If God loves everyone, why did hundreds of thousands die in wars because God of the Israelites wanted it so? How could such a loving Father kill every first born child of the Egyptians? To make a point?

My English literature degree helps me see that EVERYTHING is written by an author's perspective. None of the holy books are a word-by-word quote from God. In fact, the only item possibly written directly by God (see Exodus) are the two tablets upon which the 10 commandments are written. Everything else was written by the hands of mankind, and should be taken with a grain of salt.

Have you ever read the "history" of the American Revolution from both the British and American sides? They are two different stories, even if the facts are the same. If you look close enough, you will see those American colonists were - quite literally - TERRORISTS! Yet, in the American history books, they were heroes... 

In the Old Testament, we only see the events from the Jewish perspective. The testimony is skewed to favor them. What would a different perspective reveal?

Take for example the major events leading to the Passover exodus. To the Jews, they wanted to see God punish their oppressors in Egypt, thus the events were recorded from this perspective. What if we stand the event on its head and take a look from a new perspective. The river waters had run red (contaminated), frogs escaping the river died on the land, locus and flies followed... In the natural order of things, disaster-followed-disaster. Ancient people did not understand health, bacteria and viruses to the degree we understand today. We do know of fast moving illnesses that take only a section of our population (ie, young, elderly, or - in the case of the 1918 flu - only people in their prime). What if the prior disasters led to an outbreak of illness or contamination in the water supply? 

What if if the true miracle was that God protected the Jews from that which, in natural course of events, attacked the others residing in Egypt? That, at least, would show Love and Mercy of which Christ speaks.

Perhaps the illness the hit Egypt that night was food-borne. The Israelites were instructed to slaughter lambs, sprinkle the blood and eat the meat (not any other). Through this, God could have led them away from the disaster that hit the region.

Again, I don't know anything for certain, but it leads me to wonder what else I may see though a different perspective. One thing I've found for certain, story after story... No matter how many times the Isrealites have turned from God, God has been ever-faithful to His side of the covenant made with Abraham. And God does forgive past transgressions...

Christ presented a new Covenant in His teachings. Two rules - not several books of them, both Old Testament and religious dogma of today. Love God; Love each other. In the covenent, we are called to forgive each other's mistakes ("sins") and own own transgressions will be forgiven. Simple and pure. If God is ever-faithful to promises in the Old Testament, I have no doubt Christ is too.

Midsummer's Night

With my heritage, I grew up with many European legends, traditions and stories. One of my favorites was that on Midsummer's Night, the fae would move from one point in the world to another in the blinking of an eye.

There were some mid-summer nights, where the last of the sunlight would still hang in the sky well past my bedtime, I'd have my nose pressed against the screen of my bedroom window, wondering if the fae would ever visit the place I lived.

I've read many legends of the fae, including Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. While I will not watch for the fae to see if they move in or out of my area this night, I may likely ponder on Puck's parting words from the play:

If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber’d here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to ‘scape the serpent’s tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.

Whether or not we believe in fae, Midsummer is a point in the year where - like fae tradition - we can let go of the past and move on. As Shakespeare put so eloquently in these lines, life is but a dream, a short one. 

"If you pardon, we will mend." Forgiveness is a big part of letting go of the past grudges. Many now hold to a more contemporary tradition of releasing old grievances in the first few moments of the New Year. But we forget that opportunities are found throughout the year.

Tonight is Midsummer's Night, the shortest night of the year in the northern hemisphere and the longest night in the southern. Just as it is the "moving time" of the fae in old traditions, the sun also begins its journey back to the south.

It is a time of change; a time when we can let go of past, forgive those for whom we have a grudge, and make a fresh new start.

"Give me your hands, if we be friends, And [we] shall restore amends."

While there are as many moments to start anew as there are breaths throughout the year, sometimes we need a gentle reminder from season to season.

Happy Solstice.

~ ESA

Coin Toss

Those with US coin currency in your pocket have seen the various backings on quarters over the last decade. Between 1999 and 2009, the US Mint released new quarters, a few each year, through banks within the State represented on the back.

I remember waiting for the initial release. It wasn't long before the shiny new quarters were in my possession, as I lived on the east coast, where the first coins were released. As the releases continued year-after-year, however, it took more time to see them in the local cash registers.

But they did get there.

This is not to share the story of the US quarter, but as an illustration of how much our lives are integrated with others. Those quarters would not arrive locally unless carried beyond the State borders in which it was issued. It may have been held in many purses and pockets between the initial issue of a bank and your hand.

There is no doubt that several of these quarters are now outside the US borders as well. There are banks all around the world that exchange US currency, and countless international travelers that may hang onto a few coins as souvenirs, much as my dad had done in his international travels.

Think how many lives this quarter has touched in its journey, and how many more it will touch once it leaves your hand. We never know where each coin goes. But we do know one thing.

Our lives are interwoven together.

Even as a quarter passes hand-to-hand,

Blessings can travel over many a land.

~ ESA

Sharing Some Fun

A few weeks ago, in a mischievous moment, I scribbled the following poem on a post-in note and left it in the bathroom that several small companies share on my floor.

There was once a time

When one could rhyme

Upon a bathroom wall.

But with a small note

And lighthearted joke

None take a fall.

:D

Before the end of the day, there were several more notes posted on the bathroom wall. Some were just silly doodles, others were rhymes or comments on another's post. There was even a conversation between anonymous writers.

In a few days, everyone on the floor was laughing about what was being posted beside the toilet. Some even added a few blank ones in various colors to encourage more people to write something. 

One visitor commented, "This is great; I'm entertained when I go in there."

Here's a challenge for any reader that is up to it. Take a post it note, add a small quote, and leave it somewhere for a joke. You may just help someone smile.

~ ESA

Purpose for Pain

I had a discussion with someone today, who thought that seeing a purpose for the chronic pain I experience was foolishness. While I disagree, it would be “foolish” to argue the point with him. Instead, I thought to share my insight on this blog.

First, pain makes us realize that something is wrong. Too often we try to alleviate the pain but do not look into the root cause of the problem, whether this is physical, mental, emotional or spiritual pain. So when there is pain, something needs to be soothed, but also fixed/corrected.

Second, pain is an opportunity to learn humility. Please understand I don’t imply that one needs to be put through pain or humiliation to “learn humility.” In our day-to-day struggle, we reach a point when we experience pain. When the pain becomes unbearable, we realize we do not have the resources alone to overcome the problem. We need to tell the ego, “You are not enough” and open ourselves to assistance. This calls for humility.

Third, pain presents a beautiful opportunity to pray. We can pray for the pain to subside, for comfort, for guidance, for healing. But even more important, when we admit to others that we need help, we open ourselves to become an opportunity for others to pray as well. Any connection to the Divine is a blessing to the soul, yours and others.

Forth, pain provides those around you an opportunity to do some good in the world. This can range from help at home, to help at work, to assistance from a stranger with lifting groceries into the car or holding open a door. Every bright moment helps create a better world.

Fifth, pain can also teach us to use our minds better. We can focus on the negative – the pain. Or we can use our mind to focus on positive images, prayers, meditation, healing, etc. It is something we can all learn. Research has shown that our mind / thoughts do directly affect our physical bodies and well being. Instead of focusing on the bad; we can learn to focus on the good.

Sixth, I found that I needed to learn how to accept healing, prayers and blessings from others. I needed to accept that I was worthy of both God's Love and theirs, and I had to learn how to open myself to these. This, I admit, I am still trying to learn. There have been many stumbling blocks I’ve put down over the years. But, at last, they are starting to lift.

Seventh, it is a means through which I learn about and understand pain others in this world suffer. It is not a pleasant lesson, but it evokes a great amount of compassion and acknowledgment at the strength found in those who deal with pain over many years, especially those who cannot easily alleviate the pain.

Finally, I have also not let the pain go to waste; I lift the pain as an offering to others of this world. While I know I am not Christ, I am a Christian. I try to follow in His steps. I know He offered His own pain as an offering. While I am already experiencing pain, rather than self-inflicting or inflicting it on others, perhaps this suffering can be used to some good in this world. Even if it is something beyond my understanding...

~ ESA

Priorities

This particular blog post is dedicated to my "little" brother (who ended up being the tallest of our generation).

When my brother was 12 years old, he was diagnosed with AVM, which is a malformation in his brain. Granted, medicine and technology have come a long way since he was first diagnosed in the early 1980's; he one of the first cases in the United States.

They told my parents that he would not likely live to see adulthood. They could try to prolong his life a little by alleviating the pressure on the brain. The first of many brain-surgeries opened a place in his skull, so he could no longer participate in track - a sport he loved. In fact, with nothing but hair and skin between a potential impact and his brain, he was banned from all sports, including the school's gym class.

I don't know how much my brother realized his time in this world was limited; he did know that each time he went into the hospital (yearly at times) may be his last time. But beyond that, he continued to live his life as though nothing was different. He laughed and lived each moment to the fullest.

In school, he was one a handful selected to learn the newest "rage" - the computer. Like my dad, he had an exceptionally sharp mind and uncanny ability to figure out the technology with very little instruction. Soon he was teaching the teachers on the school's first computer (which, if I recall correctly, was in a storage room next to the mimeograph machine they still used at the time).

My brother always looked at the positive side of things, though, and found humor in the strangest places. He would get such a thrill when he told people to place their hand on a certain part of his head. Then he'd lean forward so they would feel his brain slosh against their fingertips, laughing at the expression on their face. It was certainly something they couldn't do.

But his medical condition wasn't the only thing he laughed about. He'd enjoy laughing at everything. It was this sense of humor that lifted the entire family, through both his problems and ones we faced in our own lives.

Because of my little brother's example, we all held onto a child-like heart through life's ups and downs.

 
Needless to say, despite the doctor's warnings, my little brother reached adulthood. He went on to become a Director of IT for a company, got married, bought a nice house and had three beautiful children.

While his kids were still young, my brother's health began to decline. He could no longer drive long distances safely, so I helped him work with his HR department to arrange a telecommuting option. This was a golden opportunity, as it enabled him to spend even more time with the ones he loved dearly.

Then came the terrible news, his marriage was ending. While loosing his wife was horrific enough, being separated from his children was unbearable.
So he fought hard to have the kids with him every other day as well as alternating weekends. He was there to walk them to/from the bus stop, check their homework, make them dinner, read to them, and tuck them in at night. He attended school plays, games and every function that was important to the kids.

I think the kids realized something was wrong with their daddy. Unlike other dad's, he went to the doctors a lot and had many brain surgeries; they'd visit him in the hospital when they were old enough.

Just as the last of the kids entered grade school, my brother needed to use a cane to manage his balance. They had no qualms about his handicap; they'd play with his cane or hang on to it instead of his hand when they walked together. It was part of who their daddy was.

As they grew older, I could see how even the youngest instinctively knew when to use her slight weight just enough to counter the way dad would suddenly lean when he was distracted, helping him to stay balanced.

In 2010, we needed to rent a scooter for him at our annual family trip to a local amusement park. The kids had the best time with that; they'd fight over who got to ride with daddy on the scooter between the rides. In fact, riding the scooter with daddy was the BEST ride in the park.
...

My brother had a stroke around 8pm on April 1st last year (2011). His ex-wife had just dropped off the kids for the weekend. They were worried when the ambulance came to take their unconscious father to the hospital. It wasn't the first time; he's been rushed to the hospital many times in their short lives. But he always came back home.

Always.

This time he didn't. He lasted a few more hours, enough for my sister, mother and I to arrive and say goodbye. My other brother had only just landed in NY on his mad-dash flight from San Diego when our little brother breathed his last.

* * *

It wasn't until I was going through some pictures following his death that I realized there was something my little brother did consistently. He always did things with and for the kids first. His house was badly in need of repairs and cleaning at times, but there was always time to play.

Even when low-points of his condition created severe migraines or caused him to sleep deeply for hours through the day, his kids would play quietly around him, being near to him. Some day's he'd wake up to discover his daughter had surrounded him with little paper tanks she folded when he was sleeping. There was even the time their mischievous aunt helped them build a playhouse over daddy- couch and all.

The middle-child was the one closest to my brother. He was the one who had his own head shaved every time  daddy needed his head shaved for surgery. He was the one that laughed the loudest and stuck by his dad's side through thick and thin....

He was the hardest hit when daddy was no longer a part of his young life.

 
The video shows the last birthday this child shared with his daddy. It was a common moment perhaps shared countless times between the two, but none of us ever knew it would be the last time...

A few months ago, the anniversary of their dad's passing, this child asked for some things he wanted to have. While the house they spent many happy memories with their dad had since been cleared out and sold, my mom kept a few items that belonged to my brother.
The first item he asked for was my brother's cane. This I think is a very big part of their memories of daddy. This was a part of him. In the last few years, he couldn't walk across the room without it. Now he is in a place where he no longer needs it.

The youngest had made a drawing to place in her daddy's casket. It was her memory of the two of them picking apples. He was holding her up so she could reach the apples on the tree branches. Leaning in easy reach against the tree's truck is that ever-present cane.

The second item the middle-child requested was a surprise to us. When my brother decided to try to meet someone new, after the divorce, he tried to create a roguish appearance. His hair, after all those surgeries, was thinned if not completely gone in sections. So he shaved it all off and grew a goatie instead.

Then one day the family noticed a new image on his FaceBook account. My brother had gotten a new hat, and wore it quite frequently at family gatherings as well as on dates.

His son wanted that hat.

When we dug it out, I expected that it would be far too big for his young head. After all, my brother was 6'7" and had a big head to match. But, remarkably, it fit the son's head perfectly! He was a dapper young man wearing his dad's hat and strutting with his dad's cane.

It was the first time I've seen even a hint of a smile on that child's face for a year.

---

Like my little brother, each of us are only here a short time. We never know when our life will end, we only know the moment we have in our hands. If my brother had worked long hours, or only saw them every-other weekend, or focused on the to-do list at home, I don't think he would have built the close ties he had with his kids. It's true he only had a short time with them; none had yet reached middle-school when he died. 

But they do have some beautiful memories that they can share for the rest of their lives.

Happy Father's Day - may you share it with those you love.

~ ESA

Father's Day Memorial

I had created this video for my dad a few years ago, months after he passed away. While my little brother (pictured at 0:32 in the video) is also gone now, I haven't been able to generate a memorial video for him yet. Next year, hopefully both will be posted together as I have no doubt they are now side-by-side in Paradise.

Happy Father's Day!

~ ESA

Learning to Ride

When I was a small girl (younger than that picture), my dad taught me how to ride my first "two-wheel" bike. Like many my age, I had "training wheels" at first to allow my limbs to grow used to the differences between a tricycle and bicycle.

Then there was the fateful day when my dad, observing me, determined it was time for the training wheels to come off. I was so very afraid that I would fall. To ease that fear, he offered to jog along beside the bicycle holding onto the back of the seat. If my balance wasn't too steady, his hand would be there to keep me from falling.

Encouraged, I let him take the training wheels off and -- still trepidatious -- got on the bike. I started pedaling on the concrete-block sidewalk in front of our house, heading down the block. The ground was level and it took some effort on my part to keep those wheels moving and the bike upright.

At the first tree, halfway across our small front yard, I looked behind. My dad was still there, hand still on the back of the seat. I got a little more courage and looked ahead again.

At the border with the neighbors yard, I peeked again. And again, he was still there, hand still on the bike. It was then I put all my trust in his guidance and focused entirely on pedaling the bike and keeping it upright.

When I reached the tree that marked the center of my neighbor's yard, I peeked again. My dad was still jogging along beside my bike, but his hand was NOT on the seat. So what happened? I became afraid. I became terrified that without his support - or my training wheels - I would fall. And what happened?

I fell of course.

With scraped knee and elbow, I cried tears of distress and betrayal. Oh, how upset I was that my dad let go when he promised he was going to hold on.

He lovingly soothed my tears and explained that he only let go when he saw that I was able to ride on my own. He had faith in me.

He would not take the bike back to our house. He refused to put the training wheels back on. He would not let me walk home without the bike. The only choice I had was to get back on the bike and try again.

My dad promised he would run beside me and hold on to the seat until I had my balance back.

The scene repeated. At first, he held on, then he let go as I gained my balance was was able to ride on my own. It felt good knowing he was right there beside me. Confidence grew and I started to pedal harder, the bike started moving forward faster with renewed energy.

The third house and tree passed, then the fourth. By the time I reached the fifth tree, I started to laugh. I was RIDING A TWO-WHEEL BIKE WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS LIKE THE BIG KIDS!!!

In the shade of the sixth tree, I glanced over my shoulder; my dad was still there. So I looked ahead and enjoyed the ride. When I reached the seventh tree, I heard a shout from my father. He had stopped at the sixth tree. I had ridden all that distance all by myself! Again, fear seized me for the moment. I was ALL ALONE!

And I fell to the sidewalk again.

And I cried - again.

Knowing I was not seriously hurt, my dad causally reached out with his arm and leaned against the sixth tree, unmoving. "Look at how far you went!" he called. "Look at what you did on your own! You can do it. You DID do it. Look at the distance."

"Now, get back on that bike and try again" 

 + + +

There are two reasons I share this memory with my readers today. One, it's Father's Day, and while my Father no longer walks in this world, I still have loving memories to share. The reason I share this memory, though, is that many of us may have similar stories when they first learned to ride a bike. And in this small parent-to-child way, parallels our relationship with God.

God watches over us and knows when we are ready to try something new and grow as we should. We will have help and guidance as we take those few first steps into the new experience. Then we are allowed to try our wings, for that experience will help us grow. There will be times when we are afraid, and in our fear - we fall. But God, like my dad, also encourages us to get back up and try again, because He has faith in us too.

~ ESA

Stubborn Worker (Story)

This story is short, simple and profound. You can tell it was given me rather than one of my own, which tend to be quite detailed and verbose. :P

~ ESA

There was once two workers who worked side-by-side together, doing the same work. One worked steadily at the pace that was asked, but the other worked above and beyond the call. Eventually, this worker tired out and became quite ill, no longer able to do the work.

The work that person was asked to do fell to the other worker, who now had the responsibility of accomplishing both jobs at the same time. In time, the second worker also fell quite ill and could no longer work either.

The work was thus left unfinished...

Let those with ears, hear.

Mama Bird

I am really looking forward to today. There's a joyful thrill when I can help in something good that is far larger than just myself. This one holds a special treasure; it involves both helping kids, and helping them help another in need.

Yesterday evening, there was a knock on our apartment door. I opened it to find a gaggle of children holding a large shoebox. They needed help.

It turns out, a couple of days ago, they discovered two baby birds that had fallen from the nest. One, sadly, had died due to internal injuries. But its sibling survived the initial trauma, and they were all helping to nurse it back to health, helping it survive. They named the baby bird HOPE.

Hope was inside this large shoebox, still no more than a ball of fluff with a beak. The kids did the research, and knew the bird had to be fed every half hour, which they could not do with school. So they had gotten one of the neighbors who works as the community's housekeeper to feed it during school hours. But today, she was going on her son's class trip as a chaperone and could not take care of it. 

Could we?

As my boss is traveling this week, my office should be quiet enough with enough flexibility in my schedule today to regularly stop to tweezer-feed a baby bird. The kids had already carefully researched and prepared the food, handling gloves and all I need for it.

I agreed to "babysit" Hope.

In an hour (6:30 am) the eldest of the kids will be getting on the school bus. On her way to the bus stop, she'll drop off the bird at my apartment. After school, she'll walk to my office (in the neighborhood) and pick up her charge. I think I've just become a baby-bird day care facility. LoL

Something tells me that this mama bird will be remiss when Hope has to leave...

~ ESA
(Pictures below added through the day.)

Lest We Forget

Today, America celebrates Memorial Day. While there is ever-increasing focus on the military, I'd like to take a moment to also note - and thank - others who give life and limb for the sake of others.

Firefighters, both pay and especially volunteer, are the primary responders to fires, accidents and many other calls (from flooded basements, to the proverbial cats stuck in trees). They put their life on the line many times from standing out at roadways accidents on rainy nights to entering blazing buildings. Some never go home from the call...


Police, also put themselves at risk, from high-speed chases to gunfire-fights. Sometimes it's unintentional, such as those officers killed when they were simply walking to help a disabled motorist and they get struck by a car whose driver wasn't paying attention.


EMT, Paramedics and ambulance crews are often not thought about on Memorial Day. But they also put themselves at risk. Speeding through traffic, where cars jump out is one hazard, working roadside at accidents another. One many don't realize is those dedicated men and women also go into dangerous neighborhoods to help a fallen or sick human being. I didn't realize this was an issue until I noted the bullet-proof vest of a friend who's a NYC Paramedic. She pointed out that some calls where someone was shot, the bullets are still flying when you arrive.



Rescue Workers and First Responders include those who dig through the debris of fallen buildings immediately following a tornado, hurricane, tsunami, earthquake or similar. They brave churning flood waters to rescue stranded motorists or people in homes. Many of these aren't trained emergency response but just the caring hearts who first arrive on the scene and realize there is someone that needs help.



And the most important...


The Peacemakers and Those who stand up for the rights of others, especially those who do so at the cost of their own lives. The news reports deaths in other parts of the world where people die during protests against what they see as unfair or inhumane laws or leaders. We in US should not forget our own similarly fallen. Our largest generation, the Baby Boomers, lived through and should not forget the 1960's, where many people ~ men and women, black and white ~ died simply because they stated in words and non-aggressive actions that segregation is WRONG. Some died for protesting for Peace.

These too, as well as fallen military, should be remembered on this Memorial Day. Not just those in the US, but those all around the world. May we especially those who have NEVER raised a hand to harm another, but lost life or limb in helping others and making this a better world.

In Memoriam

- ESA

Memorial Weekend Memory (True Story)

Reposted from last year, but still a fun memory to share this weekend. 

__________________________________________________________________________________ 

On Memorial Day weekend in 2010, I had a fun adventure I'd like to share with my readers. While I hope to share the smiles, I also hope one can see how one can be guided to help another anywhere, any time, in more ways than we may realize.

That year, my husband and I decided to spend the long weekend apart; he'd do things that he liked, and I'd drive out to visit friends of mine in Northeastern PA. For some reason, my boss decided to let the employees leave by noon that Friday. So, given that I wanted to avoid the holiday traffic on the drive from New England, through New York State to the Northeastern corner of PA, I found myself heading out a few hours before my planned time.

While I plan things, I love improvidence too. So I decided on the drive out to stop by for a surprise visit with other friends in Carbondale, PA before I went to the home of the friends I had planned to visit out in Wayne County. After all, I had quite a few hours to kill before my anticipated arrival of 9 pm that evening.

I was on the "new highway" (Route 6) where it bypasses downtown Carbondale when I happen to notice a broken-down car, a group of four people, and the tow-truck driver with his truck. So, given I was only minutes from where my friend lived and knew the neighborhood intimately (as I had lived there a number of years myself), I stopped to see if they needed a lift.

It turns out, the four young (18-21 years of age) people were on their way from Brooklyn, NY to some camp in Wayne County PA when their car broke down. As the tow-truck driver only had room for one person, I took the other three and, knowing the location of the tow-truck's shop, said we'd meet them there.

At the garage, they were disheartened to discover that the fix was not an easy one. The car would not be ready for a couple of days as the part needed to be ordered. It was amusing and sad to watch as they tried offering more and more money to get the mechanic to fix the car sooner. They didn't understand that the part really was NOT there in the shop, and no amount of bribing would get them on the road sooner. I also had to argue with the youths several times that the people working on their car were honest; that almost everyone in that area was honest and hard working. They were not "trying to pull a fast one." Ironically, I later discovered the reason their car stopped working was because the young driver didn't believe HIS mechanic in New York when he was told they needed more coolant for the engine; so they cooked it on the drive to PA...

They called several people they knew at this camp, and, to their dismay, discovered only one who would give them a ride from Carbondale to the camp - for $300! Both the tow-truck driver and I were horrified by this, and we both offered to give them a ride. Wayne County was just "over the mountain" and not worth $300 in gas. The tow-truck driver, however, has an appointment near Scranton, first, and could drive them out in his car afterward. It would be another two hours before he returned.

It turns out, the youth couldn't wait that long as they needed to be at the camp by sunset, for religious observations. So, I loaded all four and an amazing amount of luggage for just a weekend into my Jeep with myself. I noted, though, as I'm playing a manual version of 3-D tetris with the four youth and their belongings, that if my husband HAD been with me on this trip I would never be able to help them now. I had only myself and one bag and we barely squeezed in with stuff on everyone's laps save mine.

The next several hours were interesting, especially given that a point-to-point drive should have only taken a half-hour or less.

First, the youth discovered that technology is only as good as the signal; and there was absolutely NO AT&T signals in northern Wayne County then. My Verizon cell was iffy at best, but I only own a cheapie flip phone, with no GPS or internet like their newest iPhones had. And my '99 Jeep was far older than that. Thus with the GPS and internet maps gone, I asked them for directions as we navigated the rural back roads past cows, woods and open pastures that looked quite reminiscent of Farmville to them. They tried to decipher some limited directions via email but kept referring back to the last GPS coordinates they had. We finally get to the bottom of the email where it read, "Do not use GPS coordinates as they will not get you to the camp."

So, about 3 miles south of PA's northern border, I pull the car aside and ask the young woman in the passenger side to pull out one of many PAPER maps I had of PA. I wish I had taken a picture of the look on her face at that moment. No one considered the antediluvian method of looking at a paper map to find where they are and where they want to go! Worse, when I read off the cross-roads of the two rural route numbers where we had stopped, plus the last "four-corners" town we passed before, she didn't have a clue how to read the map. So I spent the next five minutes teaching four "kids" how to read a paper map, how to find where we were, and an approximation of where we need to go, knowing the name of the private camp will not be listed on the map.

It turns out we had gone about 20 miles too far north, and while turning around, discovered they had entered the wrong "Lakeville" into the GPS. So we drove back to the nearest four-corners, which had an open-air Bar-B-Que. I pulled in and suggested we get out and get some directions. There was a bit of hesitation, which I didn't understand right away. But when I started to get out, one of the young men bravely leapt from the Jeep and ran ahead of me. I approached the nearest table just in time to hear the last of the directions. ".... then once you pass the church, it's the next left, if you come to the fire house, you've missed it."

This was vague but typical directions from the area. There was no street name, also typical. I asked the young man if he understood the directions and could get us there; he nodded. We were off again. Twenty minutes later, we found the turn, which turned out to the be back road into the camp, but it wasn't marked on the paper map. Thus, my four passengers were VERY uncomfortable with taking this unpaved, unknown road that disappeared very quickly into dense wooded area like something out of a Blair Witch movie. So I continued with our map toward where we believed the front entrance to the camp is.

 It was then that my Jeep pointed out that I have very lousy gas mileage and, as I last filled the tank in New England, she was pinging me to remind me to feed her.

Aware that I had limited range, and the nearest gas station known to me was Honesdale, about 20 minutes south of the camp, I took matters into my own hand. I saw a house where there was a pick-up in the driveway and the inner front door was open. I pulled into the driveway, much to the dismay of my passengers and marched up to the front door. They rolled down the windows and called from safety of the Jeep that I was insane to walk up to a stranger's house like this. While I also grew up under the shadows of New York City skyscrapers and understood their fears, I also lived a decade in this part of the world and knew the people here. I was fine.

An old lady called out for me to enter, and my passengers nearly had a conniption as I opened the screen door and calmly let myself in. Remarkably, I had chosen just the right place to stop. While they did not recognize the name of the camp, the old man was once a volunteer firefighter in the area. While he only knew the local roads by local name, the old lady pulled out a detailed map. Voila! We were able to see the property marks of the camp and backtracked down the local roads to where we were. So I now had very accurate directions, which I wrote down with a pencil and piece of paper the old lady was kind enough to provide.

The next ten minutes were the most amusing of all. I was able to follow detailed turn-by-turn directions, right down to barn silos and major bumps in the road. The youth were amazed that someone not only let a stranger into their home - an old defenseless couple at that! - but gave such great directions without asking for money. In addition, they kept asking me, at every "ping" from my low-fuel warning system, what happens if I run out of gas. They realized - with growing dread - that the last time they saw a gas station was way back in Carbondale. They could not grasp the fact that a stranger would not only stop to help us if we ran out of gas, but would most likely give us some gas so we could get to the nearest station.

The bigger issue would be they had a time deadline, and there was no guarantee we'd be able to get them to the camp before sunset if I ran out of gas. The sun's angle was getting quite low; we were cutting this close. I didn't need them to worry more, so I simply kept telling them, "have a little faith."

On the final stretch, we encountered several other cars pulled on the sides of the dusty unpaved road, while one person or another was out of the car holding up their iPhone or similar device trying to get a signal that wasn't there. The youths and I told them, car by car, "Follow us, we have the good directions." By the time we pulled through the gates of the camp, we had nine other cars following us, and many happy people who all needed to be there before sunset.

As the youths, thanked me, they asked for my FaceBook or Twitter account so they could "friend" me. I didn't give them my FaceBook name, and was a bit hesitant to give them my Twitter name as well. But, just as I was pulling away, a bit of mischief tugged at the corner of my mind and I thought, why not... I pulled aside, jotted my Twitter account on a piece of paper, drove back and handed it to them.

I knew they were young Jews, and this was a Jewish camp; the Hebrew letters at the camp's entrance confirmed that as much as the yamakas on the two young men. But that really didn't matter as I was just one human being helping another, a "Good Samaritan" one would say. My young passengers took the slip of paper and read it. And as I drove away, I wondered if they would recall their adventures to others that night around a campfire. And when asked who helped them, they may or may not say that I'm @JesusSister on Twitter. :D

In case you're wondering, yes, I somehow managed to get to Honesdale for gas. It was after sunset (about 8:30pm) by then. While I was pumping gas, my friend who was expecting me called to see if I was nearby and if I wanted dinner. I arrived just a few minutes before 9pm - the expected time.

~ Had I not gotten out early
~ Had I not gone without my husband
~ Had I not previously lived in that area
~ Had I not, on a whim, decided to visit a friend
~ Had I not made plans to arrive late that night at another's
~ Had I not randomly stopped at that particular house for directions
~ Had I not had faith in God and other good hearts of the people there

None of this adventure would have happened as it unfolded.
But I'm glad it did.

- ESA