A Lesson learned - Again!

    I have long believed that no one gets up in the morning with the intention of causing unhappiness to others. This philosophy has served me well wherever life has taken me, from driving on freeways to navigating relationships. 

    Yet once in a while I’ve needed a reminder. Fifteen years ago, I was given a memorable opportunity when a plane’s mechanical problem delayed my transatlantic flight. Though all passengers were eager to get to their destination, most of us adapted to the temporary inconvenience with good grace. The exception: a slender, aristocratic-looking woman in her late seventies. She appeared to take the announcement as a personal affront and responded accordingly.

    I watched in astonishment as airline personnel filled her increasingly irritated demands for refreshments, reading material, and updated flight information.

    The delay lasted three hours. I pity the person sitting next to her, I thought, observing the woman among the first to board.

    As ‘luck’ would have it, I was that person. Our ten-hour flight loomed agonizingly long, My imperious fellow traveler, without introducing herself, soon informed me that she had never been able to sleep during the day and certainly not on a plane. I acknowledged her comment with a weary nod. For me, this was already the second flight of the morning and after landing, I had one more to go before I reached family and home. Even now I could have fallen asleep anywhere.

    The ‘empress’ continued to engage me in conversation until it seemed the only polite way to escape was to excuse myself and close my eyes.

    Her sudden, sharp intake of breath startled me out of an all-too-brief rest. Suppressing a sigh, I asked if she was hurting. Her answer: a brusque, “It’s bearable.”

    Only then did I notice the etchings of pain on her face. At that instant two sayings came to my mind: the first, a line from a favorite hymn, “Who am I to judge another/ When I walk imperfectly?” and the second, an old Portuguese adage, “Slowly, we go far.”

    Obviously, I had yet far to go. Ashamed of my earlier unwillingness, I made a much-needed mental adjustment and changed course. If ten hours of my time would help this woman, then surely, I could give them to her.

    Talking seemed to have a calming effect on my traveling companion. She was well informed on the politics and the geography of countries which many people might have difficulty finding on a map. Her expertise on a wide variety of subjects amazed me. Her sharing of personal experiences enriched me. Slowly, the woman’s story unfolded   A native of Greece, she had been secretary to the queen of that country in her youth. When she fell in love with an officer of the German occupational forces during World War II, her family sent her away in disgrace, first to England and then to America. There, she eventually married. Unable to have children, she chose to devote her life to community service.

    She had been windowed some months when she learned that she had an incurable disease. Now she was returning from a trip to her homeland, where she had said goodbye to the remaining members of her family.

    When we said our own good-byes, I knew that I had taken a most inspiring journey with someone at once demanding and compassionate. Two weeks later, in time for Christmas, a card arrived in the mail. It read in part:

    “My Dearest Friend! It was the best trip for me to be with you all that time. God sent you to sit next to me and take the pain away. For those hours I did not feel it.”

    We stayed in touch for almost a year until one day her letters stopped. Her name was Maria, and I think of her still.