Yesterday we went to the zoo.
Me, my wife, and two children… by train. In the infernal summer of Rio de Janeiro.
I was very happy because the train's air conditioning was working, but what charmed me and started the flow of kindness was the politeness of the person who, upon seeing me with my one-year-old son in my arms... gave up their seat!
Yes, it was almost 10 a.m. and we were comfortably seated: I have absolutely no complaints about the service provided by Supervia, both on the way there and back… including a disconcerting episode that occurred inside the train, right at the end of the adventure, and had educational consequences that, I hope, will remain etched in my heart forever.
I'll tell you…
The trip was just the beginning…
And I can't deny that it was a wonderful day, just as it would be a lie to say that I'm not suffering because of my son's current phase: he's intelligent, has a memory that's hard to distract, and when he wants something he screams like there's no tomorrow!
These screams not only attract the attention of anyone two kilometers away, but they also seem to tear, through the amplification of my hearing aids, right in the middle of my brain: it's truly painful, extremely exhausting, and all I can do, while trying to talk to and educate him, is wait for him to advance to the next stage—currently we're between two and three syllables—of verbalization and communication.
This behavior of screaming as if he were being eviscerated when we deny him something he wants has been a bit embarrassing, and that's what happened yesterday on the train, after the ride, just before we got off: I don't remember exactly what he wanted, but I remember that the screams he made caught everyone's attention... and this was on one of those trains that doesn't even have divisions between the carriages.
(And, by my calculations, the boy's screams must have reached about five train cars away!!)
The situation was so dramatic and poignant that even a vendor offered the boy a glass of guaraná so he would stop screaming, but we, the parents, dying of embarrassment, refused, after all we try to prevent him from drinking sugar and he wasn't even thirsty… and that man, immersed in a pure flow of kindness, with all his generosity, then took a bottle of water and placed it, without allowing it back, in the child's hands just as the doors opened and we had to disembark.
We got off with our backpacks, stroller, and children and stood there, exchanging glances, because the train had already closed its doors and was leaving, without even giving us time to reach for our wallets to try and pay for that water…
Keep this information in mind, as the story continues.
The Deaf Beast in the Flow of Kindness
This morning I was concentrating, absorbed in the silence of the many cinematic and legendary ideas that were passing through my profound deafness when someone managed to get my attention by tapping something metallic, probably a coin, on the half-open wooden gate of my garage.
A little startled by what I had heard and uncomfortable because I was shirtless and sweating profusely, I peeked through the crack and saw two women, one quite old and the other younger, who said something that, unlike the first sound, failed to break through my barrier of silence.
Everyone has their own unique features, and I, among many others, have a waterfall that runs down my head. It was already bothersome, but after I started needing my prosthetics all the time, it became a challenge, forcing me to choose between engaging in activities or communicating.
So, in order to not neglect my part in cleaning and maintaining the house, I've defined a "Deaf Beast Mode": usually in the morning, after breakfast, I get down to work – washing, cutting, tidying… – with rivers of sweat and zero hearing.
After these activities (and a good shower) I enter "Fussy Mode"... that is, until the day they invent devices capable of satisfactorily resisting water and sweat... and don't charge an arm and a leg for them!
I explained that I am deaf, and then, asking, they made a sign with their index finger and articulated perfectly: "ONE REAL"!!
Annoyed at being half-naked and sweaty, embarrassed at having been interrupted in my unpleasant task, and not even considering getting my wallet muddy on the floor of my house, I said I didn't have one, and, somewhat reluctantly, they left.
What I'm about to tell you isn't meant to aggrandize myself: I've never before presented, and never intend to again, any good deeds I've done, mainly because I believe that only God is right to see and reward such acts, all in secret. I don't even tell my wife about the things I sometimes do!
But this time it was something quite unusual…
I went there, washing the garage and remembering the expression on those women's faces… and realizing that if it was bad for me there, under the shade of the garage roof, it must have been much worse for them, walking around with only their parasols to protect them from that devastating sun. Surely they wouldn't be making such sacrifices just to buy cachaça…
Then I remembered yesterday, when a simple train vendor handed that bottle of water to a child who didn't really need it... and my heart broke: I thought about the struggles of that man walking and shouting through the train cars, having to sell his drinks to survive... and yet he was kind enough to spontaneously offer ONE REAL (the price of the bottle of water), with a smile and without even thinking much about whether he would miss it at the end of the day!
Damn it: at least I was obligated to pay the one real I didn't pay for the water yesterday!
What kind of human being was I being to not even remember that and let those women go, under that scorching sun, to continue begging for such a small amount?
Não que eu esteja esbanjando dinheiro, pois na verdade acabo sendo também nada mais que outro pedinte: as necessidades de consultas, remédios, conserto das próteses e a terrível realidade que começou lá atrás com a minha surdez súbita se somaram às inadiáveis necessidades cotidianas e eu estou aqui, tentando vender camisas pela internet para reforçar a fraca aposentadoria que recebo por ter sido reformado com apenas 20 dos 30 anos de serviço que deveria cumprir… mas, que droga, um real eu tenho e, se pudesse… se tivesse recursos… minha vontade seria a de perguntar qual era a necessidade daquelas mulheres e atendê-la de uma vez!
The Pursuit of Repentance Under the Sun
I realized that God had just slapped me in the face: yesterday He showed me a kindness, and I, absorbed in myself, almost didn't reciprocate!
I ran, wearing only my shorts, grabbed my wallet and car keys, praying that I could still find those two in the streets: I couldn't understand how I could have been so stupid and ungrateful!
I drove around looking all around, imagining what route two needy people would take, searching street by street and crying in desperate regret, begging God not to take away my opportunity to do some good for those people… no one would be walking in that sun and asking for so little if they weren't in need!
I reached into my wallet and found three bills, the only ones I have from today until the end of the month. Yes, I have faith, but it wouldn't be wise to let my children go hungry: the moment I pulled out two bills, I spotted the pair walking at the end of the main street in the neighborhood behind mine, about to turn a corner!
I sped up and rolled down the window until I was beside them, and they, with dignity, didn't even glance at the car that had begun escorting them. Seeing that they weren't going to look, I decided to shout:
Hey! I was back there, washing the yard!
Aí elas olharam e, meio envergonhado e sem dar tempo para nenhuma reação, estendi a mão, coloquei as duas cédulas na mão da mais idosa e parti — afinal, vivendo no silêncio de Silence, sem aparelhos eu não seria capaz de escutar nada do que dissessem mesmo…
In my rearview mirror, I could see them looking at each other and smiling: they changed direction, crossed the street, and I sincerely hope they were going to take care of their needs.
I went home crying like a newborn calf, feeling like God had given me a message: the more I have, the more I should give!
Stop this obsession with thinking that people are begging for unnecessary reasons and help those who put themselves at risk, who set aside any pride and, out of sheer necessity, go out to beg, because that is the only way to alleviate their suffering.
I'm not going to link this conclusion to my Christian faith—mainly because I've seen many people who aren't even Christian reveal a heart that's far more generous than some ravenous wolves who even disguise themselves as shepherds—but the lesson is that life demands this flow of kindness: this one today, because I told you about it, I may not have been recognized by God, but my encouragement to practice it through this text will surely bring many an even greater good than the small amount I donated to those women.
I'll end with a video whose music may not be accessible to many (as it no longer is to me), but which I listened to back when I still could, it touched my heart... and which today makes perfect sense!
I hope it touches yours too!
A hug.
Interesting. Some time ago I adopted a zero-begging policy. As I've already mentioned to you, we have some aspects that are completely opposed. After seeing all sorts of lies on various modes of transport (bus, subway, and train), including the same beggars operating on all three, I decided not to even listen to the stories. On Friday, I heard a pregnant beggar downtown say that she feels like "beating someone up" when a woman says NO. Yes, those were her words. Walk around Central do Brasil train station and feel sorry for those who, faced with a NO, get agitated and immediately want to start a fight…
I believe you felt it in your heart, but in fact you don't know what became of your "generosity." I won't change my stance. And without fear of upsetting you, I affirm that advising young couples to wait to have children doesn't seem to have a biblical basis. And as I've already told you, if I had acted that way, I would be in serious trouble. Your writings have always been important in my life and helped me understand that I don't need to be in an ecclesiastical company, but there's no single formula that works for everyone….
My children are my arrows today; they're no longer in the quiver and are my only family, without meaning to diminish the excellent relatives who have helped me throughout my life. And let's not forget the old and new friends who supported me through difficult times. The crack addicts are already asking for $$ on the road, and that's how we'll end it:
For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: “If anyone is not willing to work, he shall not eat.”.
2 Thessalonians 3:10