Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Three Loving Musketeers


I’ve been working with Bezu for the past three years, and Friday was her last day at our branch. Our superiors have moved her to another branch.  
She has been working for the company for 32 years. When my mom was pregnant with me, she and Bezu were both at the same branch, and Bezu was pregnant with her first, too.
On the day of my interview, I met Bezu, and she treated me like family. The first few times I saw her, she assured me that she would be there to help me and that I could come to her with any questions I had. 
I’ve learned a lot from her about loving unselfishly.
Whenever she brought a transaction over from the desk, she stood there and looked at me intently as I processed it. She peered at me, her head cocked down a bit, the signal that she was giving her attention to me. She’d look at me for a moment this way, her eyes gleaming. And then she’d usually say something nice about something I was wearing. Who else, during a busy day, would stop and stare at their coworker like that? She had to stand there anyway. The transaction had to be done. But most people still wouldn't think of using that time to focus on someone else. 

Tonight, when my aunt Ziva, my mom, Blondie and I were driving home from church, Ziva told us about an interaction she’d had with someone who visited our church recently. I’d seen her the Sunday she visited–a small, elderly woman sitting a couple pews ahead of me. If I’m remembering correctly, her hair was dyed the color of beets, and she had a cute black hat. She was hunched pretty far over. From what I could tell, she seemed very loving.
I didn’t get chance to meet her, but Ziva did, and tonight she told us, “That woman is an incredible person. She is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. When you talk, she really looks at you. She is completely focused, fascinated by every word you say. And it’s like she’s known you her whole life.”

Ziva was reminded of her interaction with that woman because the woman’s daughter showed up to our service tonight. She has visited a couple times in the past few weeks. I hadn’t met her yet, and tonight, someone introduced Blondie and me to her. She immediately dove into substantial conversation. But she wasn’t showing off. She was connecting with us the whole time, and she drew me into the present. She said something about the “light of consciousness,” and I truly felt that as we talked. 

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