The first time I felt this way the Twin Towers were falling in New York. Since then I’ve repeatedly experienced the shock, disbelief, and profound sadness that natural and man-made disasters routinely create around the world.
Each time there is another human tragedy, the extent to which I can’t fully understand, those old feelings take residence once again. I peer at my TV screen and remind myself that the small picture captures only a part of the truth, despite the efforts Diane and Anderson make to deliver reality into our living rooms.
Eighteen months ago I visited Japan. To get there my husband and I flew from SeaTac to San Francisco. From there we boarded a plane and flew 11 hours across the Pacific Ocean to Osaka. We then took a series of trains that delivered us safely to the beautiful city of Iwakuni.
There are no adequate words to describe the affection for Japan and her people that have developed in me because of our trip. Memories of those 10 days produce images of architectural beauty, fascinating history, and amazing food. Far above all else I recall a nation filled with people who are gentle, kind, precise, and welcoming of visitors.
So as I’ve grieved for the people of Japan, God aligned my life, this week, with a Japanese exchange student named Cha. Studying in the US and spending her spring break here in Oak Harbor with a collegiate team to help build a Habitat for Humanity house, I have been gifted with the opportunity to respond to my sadness. The tragedy now has a face and it is a beautiful girl filled with love and hope and generosity.
We met early one morning as I fixed breakfast for her and her team members. I in the kitchen; she on her cell phone with her parents. While I could not understand their conversation, it was clear she was experiencing extreme worry and relief, all at the same time. Then came our moment. As this beautiful young woman stood alone to reflect on her family’s situation, I stopped my preparations to grab a box of tissue and approach her with outstretched arms.
It’s times like these when we can waste energy trying to understand why these things happen or choose to be a source of comfort in the ways we are personally gifted. For a moment I hesitated. Japanese are private and proud. Did I have the right to step into her space? Yet there I stood, watching a girl far from a loving family, facing enormous challenges. To that end I decided to approach her as a loving mom, to speak care and hope on behalf of all Americans. We hugged. We talked about deep and personal thoughts.
The Dalai Lama once said that compassion is not religious business, it is human business. It is not a luxury but essential for our own peace and mental stability. It is essential for human survival.
In spite of the legitimate nuclear concerns and heartbreak, a mom and college student were gifted with a moment to share what surged in both of our hearts. We are blessed.
Reach Joan Bay Klope at faithfulliving@hotmail.com.
