A sorrow shared

A friend of my daughter had recently lost her father and one sister in an automobile accident. I only knew the mother by sight. I felt urged to go and visit her, but I realized one visit wouldn’t be enough. I should do more. I went by the market and bought some groceries and brought them to her. But I didn’t have the courage to speak to her. What could I say? How would I be able to console her? I gathered my courage and returned several times to visit her. I discovered that she was in need of some money, so I brought it to her. A few days later I found her strengthened, convinced in life and grateful for our friendship born of a sorrow that is shared. (P. G. – Bolivia)

Terminated

A new director had come to the company where I had been working for 25 years. He was young and inexperienced. As spokesperson for the concerns of the company’s employees I was supposed to point out his errors during the administrative council meeting, to which his wife also belonged. At the same time I didn’t want to break the relationship, and so I chose my words carefully in order not to exacerbate the situation. After two years of this, one morning the director told me I was fired. Although shocked, I assured him that I would do my best until the last day of work. Shortly before my termination he asked me to stay on. He said his previous decision had been reckless. But in the meantime, my wife and I had already begun our own business and so I declined his offer. The last day was filled with surprises, the company held a feast with gifts and a letter of thanks. The workers also expressed their gratitude to me for all that I had done in their favor.   (E.C. – Switzerland)

At the wash house

Days ago I went to the public washing place near to my house, to wash some laundry. There was a beautiful sun and many women were there washing laundry. We were chatting so joyfully when an old man arrived. He could hardly see. He held two bed sheets, a shirt and his turban, which were all in need of washing. He asked us to move aside and give him some space. No one wanted to move aside for him. I turned to him and said: “Baba,” which is the way we address the elderly, “give your things to me and I will wash them for you.” The other women began to laugh: “What? With that mountain of laundry you already have?” I invited the Baba again and began to wash his laundry. He was so happy. He gave me his fatherly blessing and before leaving, he wanted to give me his small piece of soap which he was so jealously guarding. No one laughed now. In the silence something new happened. One shared her basin with the other; one brought the pitcher filled with water to the one who was far from the font. . . A chain of collaboration had been set in motion. (F.N. – Pakistan)