This final blog assignment is a deep one! The question is what can I take away from my experience in Greece? Some smart person once said that "We collect bits and bites along our life journey that make us the fascinating people that we are. Those bits could be lessons, examples, illuminations to reality, realizations of self, wider horizons, fresh directions, or deeper understanding."
And so, with this in mind, I think back to the two things that I did that made me feel really good inside....Forget the things I did for me - the great shopping, the site seeing, and even my MRP research - what made me think of was "Christina" and that "Kyriou" (Mr. in Greek) that sat everyday on the pavement at the top of my street.
On one of the last nights my sister was in Athens (and the last week for myself as well), my sister and I went to Monastiraki to do some late night shopping. Once the shops started to close down around 10pm, Sarah and I made our way back through the marbled streets and to the Metro station. As we scurried along, I saw a little girl on the pavement playing her accordion. She was really tiny with a head full of curls. I told my sis we should stop and give her money. I have encountered a lot of street kids and homeless people - many sang for change (just as those kids in the Slumdog Millionaire movie) and others played an accordion. But something about this little girl made me stop. I went up to her and asked. "Poso Lene?" (What is your name?) and she responded in the smallest and cutest voice, "Chris-ti-na." My sister asked her how old she was and she put down her accordion to hold up six tiny fingers. Immediately, I felt tears come to my eyes as I thought of my 5 yr old goddaughter back home, who was probably at that moment playing happily amongst friends in the comfort of her daycare centre. I thought to myself, Christina will never know what it is to feel that. We gave her change and my sister asked to take her picture. She smiled happily and my sister told her she was beautiful. It was so sad to leave her on the streets like that. I am sure her mother watched from nearby. That night I just felt sombre on the way home, thinking about what would eventually become of Christina. Will she grow up to become something or will she always beg on the streets of Athens? Her tiny voice and the way she said her name, "Chris-teen-a" still resonates in my ears.
The second event happened on the last night I was in Athens. By then, my family had left already and the CIG office/apartment was quiet without the usual chatter and laughter of my family. I finished up some work and cleaned out my kitchen. I had a lot of food left and I hate to waste. I thought of that man who sat in his raggedy clothes, barefoot and dirty, with his hand out asking for change. I passed him almost every day, as he stood post on that corner of my street. I packed him some torta (a filipino meat dish), rice, cucumbers, yogurt, chocolate, and a litre of orange Fanta. I walked up to him and said, "Kyriou, thelo?" then mimicked eating. I will never forget his big smiling face and his big blue eyes, as he saw me hand him the makeshift lunchbag I had prepared for him. As I walked down the street I turned back and saw him smile and give me a big wave. And even further down the street, I looked back and saw him holding that yogurt in his hands and chugging it hungrily. It felt so good to help him, I wished I had given him my whole fridge.
These two things made me feel so good inside. I wish I could help others more like this. It just gives you this feeling inside that makes you smile. I always remember this particular story when I turn my head away from beggars on the street. The story is as follows:
There was once a couple so poor that they had hardly anything to feed their kids. One day, they had saved up just enough to buy a loaf of bread. After a long trek to the market, they returned home with their single loaf of bread. On their way home, they came across an old beggar who sat on the road. He looked dirty, blind, and wore scraggly pieces of clothing. The old couple looked down and away from him, and kept walking. But after passing him, the couple looked at each other and thought that they can always save money again to buy another loaf, but this invalid beggar couldn't. They turned back around and put the loaf of bread in his hands. They returned home with a heavy foot, but a burden had been lifted off their hearts. They were glad to help another, but they were sad to disappoint their hungry kids who were awaiting them. They went home and went to bed. An hour later, there was a knock on their door and when they opened it, the beggar stood at their door. And he spoke to them, "You did not turn your back on me, and so I will not turn my back on you." From that day on, the couple and their family were blessed with good fortunes and blessings and were never poor or hungry again.
So whenever I begin to turn away I always think, what if that homeless person is Jesus in disguise, how can I turn away from Him? Now, that is not to say that I always give, there are times when I do look down and away and I am ashamed. So what would I rather feel, shamefulness or that warm fuzziness I felt in my heart when I saw Christina smile for the camera or Kyriou's big blue smiling eyes as he reached for the food?
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