BE ALL EARS!

A few days ago, an old friend called me to inform me that he was back in the country and he was really longing to see me. I was excited. "When do you feel ready to come to see me? I am able to adjust my timetable to have a few moments of relax with you," I offered excitedly.

"I have just arrived at home. My mother is actually arranging my holidays already. She wants me around for a whole week. I will have to go to Mombasa for a week rest. That way I will have a chance to meet my brother and sister who are both working at the KPA. Anyway, can I come this Sunday afternoon?" he queried.

"I think that is perfectly fitting for me. I will have celebrated my two masses by noon. Then, I will also have met the Junior Youths who are organising a prayer day. All that means I will have all the time for you. I am just eager," I hinted again. "Come ready to chat yourself dry. I am all ears already."

 

My friend arrived that Sunday at half past noon loaded with stories. I was ready to let him "download" them. Yes, my spirit was willing but my body wasn't. I had worked a lot more on Saturday. When we exchanged niceties and settled for our lunch, it was nearly one. I wanted to get every detail of the City of Pisa. My friend was not only ready to give the details but he coloured them well. I enjoyed every moment of the listening. I expected him to inquire what had been going on in my life since 2005 when we had last met. So when he spat those words, "Hey don, how have you been since then", I began my to narrate it. He listen, with his ears, eyes, emotions. Our chat when on for hours.

 

When I proposed a stroll in the gardens behind the parish church, he was very interested. The last time we had had a walk in the gardens, I had discovered his love for lavender. So for his birthday, I had bought him a pack of lavender sachets for his wardrobes. Even thought the gardens are well taken care of by Christ the priest Cottolengo Monastery Sisters, the current dry spell has not left them as fascinating as they usually are. Well, we went strolling all together. Then, at a certain point he stood as if fixed on the spot and gave that typical Italian exclamation, "Che bellezza! Guarda un po'!" By that I knew it must have been something really fascinating. I tried to follow his eyes to see what was that captivating. Then I spotted the marvel, a number of lilies had managed to withstand the strong equatorial heat and were swaying from side to side in the evening breeze. I made two steps towards them and knelt down to smell them. They had no dust. They were immaculate.

 

Then as I was about to rise, I heard him say, "For your ordination souvenir You actually chose two lilies alongside the Pauline confession, 'My grace is sufficient for you'. You must have been inspired by this spotlessness." He was right. Lilies have always robbed me of my attention. I have trained my eyes to see nothing else wherever lilies are. I had not chosen white lilies. I had chosen pink ones. That too was symbolic. "Tell me," he interrupted my trail of thoughts, "What is so precious about them?" "I will have to tell you that while you hold a pen and a paper. You need to jot down a few notes. For now, know that you too have no control of yourself wherever lilies are. They hold your attention. They steal your breathe." Yes, I told him another day all about lilies and all what made me a 'fan' of them. That is a story for another day.

 

Consider carefully how you listen. It takes some training to hear the message and to given an appropriate response. Consider how carefully you look. It takes some training to see what a reality represents. Life has lessons to teach us. We have to be attentive!