The Candle

It was a dark time in my life, filled with self-inflicted conflict and sorrow and that’s why I kept a candle lit, even at my office cubicle – especially there. I couldn’t stand my new job nor the supervisor that came with it.  The white candle was set in a tall glass pillar.  Its flame reminded me of the inextinguishable light (albeit small in those days) that I knew lived in my heart, beyond my current circumstances.  Even though I was consciously choosing fear and hate over love, I was thankful that my heart would not allow me to completely forget the truth.  Other small reminders served as life preservers during that stormy time too; like the quote I had pulled that morning from a deck of inspirational cards I kept at work.  Today its origin was The Buddha.  I leaned it against the candle.  It read: Suffering arrives in ten ways if you harm the innocent: Pain, calamity, accident, illness, insanity, legal problems, accusations, death or financial ruin; or your house may be burnt down. Following this you will go to hell.  “Gulp!”  I swallowed, trying to ignore the message of the day, hoping it wasn’t really meant for me.

That day at work was worse than usual and as the newbie, I was snubbed and left to finish the month end duties on my own while the rest of the office enjoyed the catered lunch together. “Some kind of test, initiation, hazing?!” I conjured a story in my mind.  “As soon as this last keystroke is entered, I’m outta this hole!” I vowed, forcing back the tears of rage that teetered at the edges of my eyes.  My face must have said it all as I stood in my supervisor’s office and told her that I was going home; she just nodded in stunned agreement.

Finally at the park I had been dreaming of all day, I plopped down in a shady spot with a sigh of relief and removed my shoes and dug my toes into the fluffy, Summer grass.  “Breathe…” I closed my eyes exhaling.  But my ears began to hone in on some far off, disturbing sound that I could not ignore.  I reluctantly put my shoes back on and followed it.  Searching, I finally discovered the source.  I was shocked!  Was that grown man across the lake really throwing that tiny little girl around like a rag-doll?!  My heartbeat took off racing with rage!  As I approached, her yelps of pain getting louder, the guy seemed oblivious to my presence despite the laser beams shooting at him from my eyes.  I sat behind them on a grassy hill, unsure of how to stop him but certain that I must.  Imagining myself taking a running leap, planting both my feet into his back and hurling him into the lake, he finally felt my energy and looked back.  Our eyes locked.  He quickly turned away and yanking another small child by the arm, headed to the outhouses, all the while glancing back at me.  “Coward!” the tears ran down my face.  Noticing the huddled young woman sitting with the bunch (three children under the age of five and an infant), I thought to approach her and demand that she protect her kids!  But from her demeanor it was obvious that she was stuck in her own fear.  Plus, if he saw me talking to her might he punish her for it?  And if I called the police, would the after effect be just the same; him taking it out on his young family?  And besides, it was his word against mine.  “God…what should I do?” I mourned, frustrated.

Wait, an inner voice surprised me with an answer.

“Wait?! Wait for what?!”  You can do nothing beneficial in this state of mind. You are in fear and fear can only beget fear.  Walk, now, and the answer will come.  You will know what to do and when to do it.  Although baffled, I somehow knew to trust this mysterious guidance.  Besides, the guy knew someone was watching him now.

I was drawn to a bench across the lake and next to the water’s edge where a patch of pink lotus flowers floated in the murky water. And with the family still in my sights I sat and waited, as instructed, keeping an eye on them. Still your heart, still your mind, the inner voice prompted again.  Staring into the water at the inverted reflection of the flowers until I felt calm, I then closed my eyes and for a moment, everything seemed to disappear.

Brought back into my body by an unfamiliar sound coming closer and closer, I opened my eyes just in time to see a little old lady wogging right towards me, huffing loudly as her arms swung with the rhythm and intensity of a marching soldier. By my estimation she was at least 80-85 years old.  And when I say little, I mean little…she looked to be just barely over four feet tall.  But little as she was in stature she definitely made up for it in pizzazz!  She was decked out!  Sporting a pair of over-sized, dark sunglasses that nearly covered the whole of her tiny face, she wore a shiny silver jogging suit that reflected the sun giving her the appearance of some other-worldly, glowing being.  And the suit perfectly matched her silver-blue Afro hair-do.  She topped it all off with a pair of bright-pink running shoes with metallic-silver shoe laces.  She was the most awesome little grandma I’d ever seen!  It was impossible not to stare and smile.  I couldn’t tell whether or not she was looking at me behind those blacked-out shades but when it became clear that she meant to sit at my bench, I had just enough time to scoot over before she nearly plopped onto my lap and began talking through heaving breaths. “Whew, M’dear I’m pooped!  When you’re 90 years old like me it’s not as easy as it looks to walk this fast…but I do it, I do it still! Been doin’ it my whole life and I’m not gonna stop now just because I’m 90 years old!”  Her big hair bobbed as she quickly looked in one direction and then another.  “Lived ’round here for over forty years; my address is 4798 King Street…you know where that’s at don’t ‘cha?” she asked, pointing her finger indiscriminately.  I nodded yes, pointing my finger in that direction as she intently followed with her head and then stood quiet, staring off into the distance.  Feeling a bit awkward, I waited for her to come back from wherever she had disappeared to.  She abruptly popped back with a smile and continued,  “My name is Patricia, yep, Patricia, but everyone just calls me Pat for short and I’m 90 years old and I have nine children…nine!  They’re all good kids but eh, you know, they’re grown now, older’n you…” she said, moving her face uncustomarily close to mine to confirm.  Fidgeting to gain a more comfortable position on the bench she went on, “my kids don’t come ’round much anymore but that’s okay, got lives of their own ‘n that’s what’s supposed to happen – I accept that.  Really I had eleven kids but two of ’em passed on…ooohhh but that was a looong time ago!”

I still hadn’t said one word but felt like my facial expressions must have been all over the board; surprised, amused, impressed, intrigued and now sad as her recant took me through a whirlwind of emotions. “Shoulda spent more time with my kids, more time at places like this!” she swung her arms open wide, her silver sleeves spreading out like shiny wings. “But noooo!” she yelled, as her head rolled back and upward toward the sky. “I worked my life away like an idiot!  Wasted so much time working…just working, working, working, like an idiot!  Hope you don’t make the same mistake M’dear, life really is too short.”  And at that she exhaled and let her bony shoulders drop, falling silent.  She stared down at the worn out spot in the grass beneath the bench and seemed to disappear again, her pink shoes dangling just above the ground.  It was as if she forgot that she was sitting next to someone, like she was suddenly all alone.  Still not having said one word, I felt like I was intruding on some private moment and felt inclined to politely excuse myself.  But I liked her energy.  Something about her made me happy and calm so I decided to stay and join her in silence instead.  We sat for awhile, both enjoying each others’ quiet company.

Pat broke the silence. “You live ’round here M’dear?” Realizing these would be my first words spoken to her, I giggled.  “Yes ma’am, I live just down that way a few blocks,” I pointed.  Following my finger and staring into the distance again she repeated, “my address is 4798 King Street.”  She quickly looked back at me, smiling even wider and revealing two silver-capped teeth.  She finally removed her shades, jamming them securely into her hair-do, her little eyes disappearing into a throng of wrinkles from her squinting smile.  “My…you’re a pretty young lady,” she said, softly patting my face with her frail, skinny hands.  I blushed, feeling like a little girl again.  “Ah but you’re troubled.  Yep, I can see it in your eyes,” she said, gently holding my face in her hands and nodding to herself matter-of-factly.  “Ya know, no matter what it is, it ain’t bad enough to keep feeling bad about.  It’ll pass.  Trust me M’dear, when you’re 90 years old you see lots-a things come and go, including problems,” she proclaimed, slapping her knee in a gesture of finality.  “You wait n’see,” she shook her finger in the air, “the answers will come.” “Gasp! The answers!” I was shocked at the flood of returning memory.  The answers!  I wanted to tell her all about what was happening on the other side of the lake; tell her that’s why I was sitting here on the bench in the first place, that I was waiting for answers…but I hadn’t even told her my name yet.

I stretched my neck in an attempt to see across the lake…yep, they were still there. Feeling guilty for having forgotten my mission I became anxious.  I had to get moving!  I couldn’t just sit here all day and bask in the the light of this joyful soul…how dare I!  She must have felt my sudden shift because we both stood up at the same time, as if to depart.  But just as I meant to say my goodbyes, she seemed intent on walking with me.  I was a bit relieved; I didn’t really want to walk past the family alone…I still hadn’t received an answer.  “How long ya lived in this neighborhood?” Pat asked as we walked.  “Oh, I grew up around here,” I answered distracted, doing my best to hide it.  “Well I’ve lived at 4798 King Street for over forty years,” she said again, looking around as we walked. “Okay, this is the third time she’s told me her address…is this her polite way of trying to excuse herself or something?” I wondered confused.  There was a moment of uncertainty between us; was she trying to say goodbye or was I supposed to? She stopped in her tracks.  I stopped with her.  “Well, it was nice meeting you Pat,” I said, extending my hand.  There was a look of bewilderment in her eyes as she reached out and grabbed my hand but instead of the customary shake goodbye, she desperately held on. Oooooh!!! I finally caught on!  She was lost! She had no idea how to get home but didn’t want to admit it…and that’s why she kept repeating her address! Grabbing both her hands in my own I asked, “where did you say you live again?”  “4798 King Street,” she almost whispered, looking at me now with sheer desperation.  “Well that’s not very far from here, I know exactly where that is.  Would you like some company on your walk home?  I would enjoy talking with you some more.”  With a huge sigh of relief she hooked her arm into mine, patting my hand and smiling, “Oh yes M’dear! Thank God!  Thank God for you!  You’re a blessing, such a blessing!  Thank you…” she stopped, looking at me intently and then smiling big, her silver-capped teeth reflecting the sun, “…and what is the name of my Angel today?” she beamed.

Headed in the opposite direction of where the young family was, I knew that my priorities must shift for now in order to help my new friend get home safely. On the way, she admitted how she lost her memory from time to time and how once, she lost five whole years of her life.  “They tell me it was five years but of course, I don’t remember,” she giggled.  “Will anyone be waiting for you, wondering where you are?” I asked.  “Ah yes,” she sighed, “Joe, my husband.  He’s gonna be so mad!  He thinks he’s the boss,” she winked, “always tellin’ me…’now don’t you go walkin’ past the end of the block,’” she imitated him, making her voice as deep as possible.  “But I tell him, ‘I’ll walk as far as I wanna walk…I’m 90 years old and no one can tell me what to do!’” she proclaimed with a sharp nod of her head that made her hair bounce.

She finally pointed to her home just up the block on the corner. “It’s that one, that’s where Joe and I have lived for over forty years,” she smiled proudly. It was a small, white-siding house whose lace curtained windows overflowed with plants that looked out onto an immaculate yard.  “And look, there’s Joe right now washing that darn ol’ car of his again…always tending to that ol’ thing!” she sucked her teeth.  Joe was a tall, lanky old man.  An old pair of work boots peeked out the bottom of denim coveralls that hung loosely on his thin body atop a plain white t-shirt, and an over-sized baseball cap sat clumsily on his head.  “Who’ve you brought home this time?” he asked amused, watching us walk up while he sprayed water from the hose onto a well-kept, classic, 1930’s car parked in the driveway.  “Nice car!” I complimented.  “Ah!  A young lady with good taste!” he joked, setting down the hose and walking up to Pat.  He closed his eyes and kissed the top of her head and then turned to face me. “Thank you for getting her home safe young lady,” he said, dramatically bowing down as best he could, removing his baseball cap with one hand and making a big sweeping gesture with the other.  “Anyone who takes the time to help My Love deserves my deepest thanks.  Joe Robles, at your service,” he grinned. I smiled back wide. “Let me guess…you found her at the park didn’t ‘cha?” he asked, turning around and slowly plodding back toward the car.  I looked at Pat, unsure of how to answer.  “I always tell her, don’t walk past the end of the block.”  I stifled a giggle as Pat silently mocked Joe behind his back; she put on a straight face the instant he turned back to face us.  “So you like the old gal do ya?” he asked proudly, patting the roof of the car.  “I do.  She’s a beauty.”  He bent down with a strained grunt, picking up a large towel and began drying the car with large circular motions.  “Would you believe this is the same car I picked her up in for our first date?” he asked, pointing his chin at Pat.  Looking back at the car he seemed to fall into a trance as he meditatively continued his task.  “Yep, she’s been with me a long time.  Guess you could say she’s my first love…but not my greatest,” he said, winking at Pat with sparkling eyes.  “Oh you charmer!  He’s always been a charmer M’dear,” Pat poked me in the ribs with her elbow, “…anything to keep me from making him get rid of the ol’ hussy!” she threw a dirty look at the car.  “But it’s like I always say, if he’s gonna have a love affair then it might as well be with a car!  It’s not like he can drive the ol’ thing anymore anyway!” she teased, turning her back to him. “Yeah but I can still take you for a good ride!” he teased back, snapping the wet towel at her bottom.  “Oh!  You dirty old man!” she laughed, grabbing my arm and leading me to a door at the side of the house.  “You’re precious car can wait, we have an Angel to entertain, let’s go inside for a drink old man.”

The spirit of love that filled their home was palpable and like medicine for my weary soul. I felt safe.  And almost immediately after entering I found myself relaxed and sleepy, wishing that I could sink into their little couch and take a nap.  But instead, sitting at the small kitchen table, Pat set down a bottle of beer and a bottle opener in front of Joe and then sat across from him with her own.  She gave me a bottled water.  Joe reached across and grabbed her beer, popping the lid off her’s first, and then his afterward.  “Don’t ever drink M’dear,” Pat said, tipping the bottle back and taking a big swig.  “This stuff’ll kill ya!” she laughed, playfully slamming the bottle back onto the table.  “So wild this one…unpredictable really…hard to keep up with her,” Joe said, smiling in between small swigs of his own.  “Keeps me on the right side of the grass though.  Don’t know what I’d do without her,” he said, reaching over and grabbing her hand lovingly.  They spent time talking about how they met and reminiscing about the triumphs, losses and the fullness of their lives together.  I listened in pure delight, feeling progressively healed by each shared memory, laughing with them and feeling as if I’d known them all my life.  Joe finally excused himself to resume his coveted outdoor task, but not before inviting me back.  “You’re welcome here anytime little Angel,” he winked.

At that, Pat took me by the hand and excitedly led me to a room in the house. A sun room…three walls of floor to ceiling windows.  The sun-drenched space bowled me over with its amazing aroma and dazzling display of flowers.  I couldn’t even count how many filled the room, hanging from the ceiling and covering every square inch of the perimeter of the floor.  The one solid wall in the room was completely filled with pictures of family and loved ones; a mapped out time-line of generations captured in photos ranging from old black-and-whites to newer colored ones; there were even pictures of beloved pets who had come and gone.  The room held only three pieces of furniture – two rocking chairs in opposite corners and a small white table in the middle.  On top of the table were two beautiful statues surrounded by flowers – one of Jesus and one of the Virgin Mary, both positioned facing the wall of photos.  In the middle of the two benevolent beings, to my delight, stood a single, white, glowing candle just like the one I had at work!  Pat inhaled deeply, smiling as she watched my reaction to her sacred space.  I silently followed the map of pictures and as if she knew to leave me in my reverie, she quietly sat down in a rocking chair and closed her eyes.  I soon sat in the other and did the same.  I don’t know how long I was there, but basking in the quiet serenity I must have nodded off only to be lulled awake by the faint sound of singing.  Coming to, I forgot where I was as my eyes focused on the soft bouncing glow of the candle on the unfamiliar ceiling.  The feel and smell of the room suggested I might be dreaming yet I felt rejuvenated, like I just had the best rest of my life.  Then I remembered!  Embarrassed for having fallen asleep, I shot out of the chair!

Looking through the screen door and into the kitchen, Pat was just setting out some food. And with her back still turned to me, she gestured a big ‘come here’ with one arm.  I cracked open the door and wondered how I hadn’t been awakened by the noise when she left the room.  “I’m so sorry…” I began to explain, only to be shushed.  “Nonsense!  That’s what the room is for.  You got the peace you needed and left a lil bit of it in the room too, and that makes me happy,” she explained, sliding a sandwich and a cup of tea across the table toward me.  “Thank you Pat.  Where’s Joe?” I asked sitting down.  “Oh he’s out on his evening walk.”  “Evening?  What time is it?” I asked with a mouth full of  tasty peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  Smiling at me with compassion in her eyes she asked, “why, do you have somewhere to be?  Because I think you’re exactly on time M’dear,” she said, sipping her tea while looking into the cup with a mysterious knowing in her eyes.  Standing outside we hugged.  “Don’t forget…you’re a blessing from God, my Angel,” she now held both my hands in hers.  “So are you,” I smiled, letting go as she walked back into her home.

I stood for a moment, frozen in reverence at the irony. I thought she was lost and I was the one helping her find her way.  But was she ever really lost at all?  Laughing, I twirled around and began my walk home with a skip in my step.  My spirit was healed and everything was a wonder!  The world had changed!  A faint  deja-vu feeling took hold of me as I wondered if I had only dreamed that someone had whispered in my ear while I slept: There is never any need to change what you see, only the way you see it.

The park came into view and suddenly the memory of the family and my prior mission came rushing back into my awareness hitting me squarely in the chest and causing me to lose my breath. “Oh my God!”  I stopped in my tracks, paralyzed with uncertainty.  “What if they’re still there?” I gulped. You have the answer now, the inner voice had finally returned.  “Whoa!” my heart calmed as I put the pieces of my day together, realizing the significance of it all.  Amazed, I slowly resumed my steps on the path through the park.  “Okay, if they’re still there it’s a sign,” I began to plan my next move.  “I’ll just walk up to the guy and I’ll say…I’ll say…” Worry not about what to say, simply keep your heart open and the words will be given you. “Okay,” I surrendered, taking in a deep breath and continuing on the path.

Allowing myself to admire the beautiful scenery, I noticed how uniquely different the park looked during this time of day.  The Sun sat just atop the silhouetted mountains, casting a rose-gold light upon the landscape, dressing-up the trees in a shimmering glow.  The undisturbed lake took on a glass-like appearance, mirroring the rich pink and orange clouds smeared across the sky.  A flock of geese honked their arrival from afar and then glided onto the water’s surface with rhythmic splashes that rippled outward, causing the liquid reflection to dance like a floating mirage on a hot desert highway.  Breathtaking!

Rounding a curve in the path my heart jumped into my throat…there they were…the family was still there! I saw two of the children first, running about; the other was sitting on the ground next to dad who had a fishing pole in the water.  It looked as though mom hadn’t moved at all.  Getting closer, my heart racing faster and faster, I heard him screaming at the children.  Just then I saw him shove his elbow, hard, into the ribs of the little boy nearest him, ordering him to “shut up!”  That jab felt like it hit me, but instead of anger, it aroused a deep compassion…for him.

I stepped off the path and walked toward the bunch.  No one saw me until I was standing right behind them.  They all turned around at once looking up at me, the kids curious, mom frightened, and dad alarmed and scowling.  Looking directly at him, I could tell he recognized me from earlier.  “Yeah!?” he snarled, tipping his head upward and shifting his weight. Just keep your heart open and the words will be given you, I recalled the instructions.  “Can I talk to you?” I asked calmly.  His eyes widened and then narrowed.  “About what?!”  “Can I talk to you, alone, over there?” I tipped my head toward the path behind us.  I had a sudden realization that I should talk to him one-on-one, so as not to embarrass him or wound his pride in front of his family, even though I still had no idea what I was about to say.  I turned around and walked toward the path and time seemed to slow, giving me one last opportunity to muster up the courage to open my mouth and trust that the right words would come out.  I saw his shadow following me.  I stopped and turned around to face him.  His posture was stiff, his fists were clenched and he nervously swayed back and forth as if preparing for a fight.  Breathing in slowly I lowered my head a bit and made sure to keep my hands relaxed at my sides where he could see them.  And then, letting go of any lingering residue of fear, I stepped closer to him, my face now just inches away from his.  I opened my mouth and waited.  He must have felt the ease of my energy because he didn’t back away but instead, lowered his head curiously to hear what I was about to say.  “I know you saw me here earlier and I have a message for you.”  We were now looking straight into each others eyes; he blinked, surprised, the look in his eyes uncertain and his eyebrows furrowed.  And then suddenly, the message from my deck of inspirational cards – the one I had leaned against the candle at my job that morning, floated back into my awareness. The words that flowed from my lips with strength and ease were as much of a surprise to me as they were to him.

“The reason that things are so hard for you, for you and your family; the reason that you suffer; the reason that nothing is going right in your life and you can’t seem to get away from your problems; the reason your life feels like a living hell is because…you – cannot – harm – the innocent – without – consequence,” I nodded my head toward his family.  “This is not a judgment against you brother, it’s just a natural law of the Universe we live in.  It’s just cause and effect.  I’ve seen how you treat them and you have to know that for every action there is a reaction.  If you continue to hurt the innocent, you will continue to suffer, period.  You are unknowingly creating your own misery, your own hell.”

His eyes flashed open wide in a moment of seeming revelation and then his gaze fell to the ground.  His head dropped down, his fists fell open and his body melted.  I saw an angry young man transform into a hurt little boy right before my eyes!  I felt a deep love for him in that moment; as strong a love as I’ve ever felt for anyone or anything.  I gently touched his arm and he looked up at me with tears flooding his eyes.  “The good news is, it doesn’t have to be this way.  You have the power to change it.  It’s all up to you,” I reassured with unwavering certainty.  He let the tears roll down his face, grabbing his eyes and smashing them with his fists and nodding his head in agreement. “Look,” the words continued to flow from my lips, “something, someone, thinks you’re important enough to receive this message.  You need to know that you deserve to be happy brother, and so do they,” I lifted my eyes to his family again.  He looked over at them, staring thoughtfully for a moment before turning back to me.  “Thank you,” he whispered, shaking his head as if waking from a daze.  He exhaled long as a look of deep relief washed over and transformed his face.  Then his eyes lit up and a slight smile overtook his lips as we stood eye to eye.  “I get that…I get that,” he nodded, “thank you.”  Smiling, I gave a nod back and walked away.  I did not look back.

The next morning I sat at my cubicle mesmerized, recalling the previous day’s events. I felt an immeasurable gratitude for…everything…even my job and co-workers.  And although I had already lit the candle, for the first time in months I felt like I no longer needed to.  I felt like I had finally come out the other side of my own darkness. Maybe this will be my last card for a while too? I wondered, pulling one more from the deck and setting it against the candle.  Today its origin was The Christ.  I smiled wide as I read the message:

“When a brother or sister acts insanely they are offering you an opportunity to bless them. Their need is yours.  You need the blessing you can offer and there is no way to have it except by giving it.”

In Love and Light,

ReV