| . INSPIRITRIX.COM |
Article 2, 2006 |
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JUST MY LUCK “If
a man be gracious to strangers, it shows he is a citizen
of the world, and his heart is no island, cut off from
other islands, but a continent that joins them.” |
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The sign outside St. Stephen’s Cathedral read, “Guided tour starts here at 9:00 A.M.” The bus I had taken to get there was already late when it stopped to pick me up, and it was now 9:18 A.M. “Just my luck!” I thought, as I rushed inside and glanced around the marble-columned sanctuary, hoping to spot a likely group still in progress. A dark-haired woman wearing a white, short-sleeved blouse with a lace collar was collecting programs left over from the morning mass off the wooden pews. “Did I completely miss the tour?” I whispered. “Oh, they’re probably in the old chapel across the plaza by now. Just take a walk over that way. Even if they’re gone, have a look around and be sure to go behind the altar screen to see the hand-carved timber statue of the Blessed Mary Mackillop. It’s absolutely beautiful.” “Thank you,” I said, as I glanced in the direction she was pointing. “I’ll do that.” “You’re an American!” she declared with certainty. “Here on vacation?” “Yes,” I replied, grateful for someone to talk with after missing the tour. “I’m actually staying for several weeks in a little place across the river.” “So you’ll be here during the holidays, then? Do you have any plans?” she inquired. “No, nothing special. I’m traveling around by myself and don’t really know anyone here,” I admitted with a bit of embarrassment. “Well, you can’t be alone for Christmas,” she said resolutely. “I’m having a small gathering for lunch at my house, very casual. You can join us. I’ll come pick you up, if you’d like. You can’t reach me here, though, because I’m just filling in for the regular organist today. My name is Shirley. Here’s my number.” I thanked her once again, and walked out the side door of the cathedral and across the plaza to the little chapel. I was both awed and puzzled by this demure woman’s immediate acceptance of a total stranger. I wondered how she could be so friendly. Strangers didn’t speak to each other in Los Angeles, much less invite them home to share Christmas dinner. Whether by good fortune or God’s grace, I gave a quick prayer of thanks for the chance meeting with her, since it was just what I needed. After receiving some sad news from home and having a few unpleasant setbacks during my trip, I missed my family and was dreading the idea of spending Christmas alone. Christmas lunch in Australia was quite different than Christmas dinner in the States. The humid, 85-degree summer weather of Brisbane called for forgoing the typical heavy, baked repast of our winter season for a lighter fare of chilled shrimp, cold cuts, champagne and lots of sweets, mixed, of course, with the customary picture-taking, upbeat conversation and discoveries of what we had in common. I was glad that, in the week since our meeting, I had at least thought clearly enough to pick up a box of chocolates to bring for my hostess, but I didn’t quite know what I should do with myself after lunch when her guests all started exchanging gifts. I nearly fell off my chair when, one by one, they approached me and cheerfully announced, “This one’s for you,” and “Here’s another one for you,” as they each handed me—a complete stranger before that day—neatly-wrapped little gifts of lovely things to remind me of my trip: a CD of music performed by the choir at the cathedral where I’d met my new friend, postage-stamped post cards, a souvenir key chain and a stuffed koala. I could hardly believe their thoughtfulness, orchestrated by this gracious hostess, and it was all I could do to hold back my tears. That was just the beginning of my new friend’s goodwill. During the next few weeks, when Shirley would discover that I hadn’t yet seen a particular sight in the surrounding area, she would offer to take me to see it with absolutely no thought of reciprocation. She lived a modest life and had no plans to travel to the States. It was just her nature to be generous. At a time, unbeknownst to her, when I was grieving the loss of several family members, her kindness got me through the pain and showed me how we are all connected to each other. I have come to discover, on numerous occasions, the boundless caring nature of the Australian people. From offers of a lift back to my hotel in the city so I wouldn’t be subjected to a two-hour bus ride, to help with retrieving my things from a rare disreputable motel, they have opened their hearts and their homes to me. Still, the most special deed was that welcoming lunch on Christmas Day, put in place when an organist was out sick, a bus was late, and a tour was missed, but not by mere coincidence. In this time of world unrest, the smallest good deeds serve a much greater purpose. What better representative of a country to meet than someone with a heart like that, and I couldn’t help but think, “Just my luck!” |
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“Each
friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not
born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting
that a new world is born.” |
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| © Copyright 2004-2006 by
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