Adventures in Paradise 71
Kia Orana, everyone! Our excellent adventure continues with thoughts on the fact that you never can tell. As a child, I would often ask my mother if we were going to do a certain thing. Mom, are we going swimming today, or Mom, am I going to have a birthday party? Growing up there were always questions and it was not uncommon for my mother to reply that you never can tell. For years I thought that this phrase meant that mabey we might go swimming or mabey there would be a party. Later, I realized that at certain times, my mother did not have a definitive answer at that moment and the phrase you never can tell, was evidence that she didn’t know what would happen. As an adult, that simple comment has come to mean something far more important. It has provided me with guidance where my behavior is concerned. In truth, the way that we choose to behave can often have long range ramifications. Once one chooses a course of action, you never can tell what will happen.
This week I had a little refresher course in this very lesson. Our friend, Noo came to visit. You may recall that Noo’s wife Linda passed away unexpectedly last July. Linda left her family behind including an eight-year old daughter. In addition to losing a wife, Noo lost his best friend. Noo said that he wanted to thank me. It seems that when Noo typed Linda’s name on Google, my blog about her death popped up. At first, Noo did not realize that I had written the article, but he was touched to the point of tears over what he had read. He sent that item to several friends in the states and elsewhere, who had not known of her death. They in turn were touched by its contents and sent it to others. As Noo related these events to me, my mind raced backwards to recall just exactly what I had written. Was there anything in that blog that I should not have said? Was there something that might have offended Noo and his family? I had never really considered the possibility that he would even ever see it. But Noo was thanking me and telling me how much that article meant to him. I was relieved and was reminded that as I wrote that particular blog, I had not realized that once it was published, I would have no control who would read it and what their reactions might be. I was reminded that you never can tell.
As we work with the young people here, we speak about the fact that they have been given the gift of choice. They are free to choose their actions, but they are not free to choose the consequences. We tell them that once they act, they never can tell what will happen. That is a daunting responsibility when you think of it. It is a gift that should not be taken lightly. Those who believe that they are acting only for themselves cannot possibly fathom how many others may be influenced or affected by their actions. In truth, you never can tell. That is just the way it is.
Years ago, my primary teacher taught this lesson in such a graphic way that I have never forgotten it. Sister Henderson was actually teaching a class of Bluebirds about gossip and the damage that it can do. Sister Henderson brought a dandelion to class. It was not bright and yellow; rather it was brown and wispy. It was delicate and we all knew from experience that if touched that dandelion would disintegrate. This wise woman told us to imagine that the dandelion was an untrue story made up about one of our friends. As we were conjuring that image up in our young minds, Sister H invited one of the girls to the front of the room and asked her to blow on the dried weed. As you can imagine, those wispy remnants scattered to all corners of our classroom, some even escaping through the open window. We all watched in fascination as this occurred, but that fascination turned to frustration when our very astute teacher instructed us all to gather the dandelion back up and we were to make certain that we missed none of it. Not catching the point of this teaching moment, we all voiced our frustration about the impossibility of the task. It was not possible to gather every particle as we had no idea where some of them had gone. Of course that was exactly the point. Once we scatter gossip or mislead or speak ill of someone, there is no way that we own it any longer. And you never can tell where it will go or who might be affected.
Almost anyone who has ever taught in any capacity has learned that even though you choose what to present to the students, you have no control over what they remember. Many times over the years, I have had students thank me for something I taught them while I have absolutely no recollection of teaching any such thing. Through these experiences, I learned to be very careful about my classroom presentations. I have learned that you never can tell.
As we prepare to leave our island paradise, we are well aware that we may never know how much of what we tried to do here will be remembered or appreciated. We may never know if lessons will be retained or if hearts have been permanently altered. We can only hope that this is the case and we can leave knowing that we tried to do our best. What we do know is that we have learned to love the people and that we will miss them desperately. Perhaps in the not so distant future, someone from our little island will find a way to let us know that what we accomplished is remembered. But you just never can tell, can you?
So as usual, we are happy and trying to work hard. I’m grateful that Noo Moekore found solace in the blog about his wife. I am also grateful that for a brief moment I had a vision of just how far reaching one of my blogs became. I am also grateful that I had no regrets about anything that I had written that Friday in July. Isn’t that just the way we should try to live our lives? Trying to be our best selves leaves us less room for regret because you just never can tell.
Love, Ward and Susan Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in the Cooks
This is our friend Noo and his beautiful daughter Apii. Thank you for giving me the idea for this blog. We dedicate it to you and your family and hope that you enjoy it. With love, Elder and Sister Belliston
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