A Story

Today's story has three characters. The first is a man who appears completely drunk. He can not walk, or speak. He's probably not really conscience. The second person is the friend who is helping him navigate his way home through two metro stations. He doesn't have the strength to lift his friend. He can barely support his nearly unconscious friend, let alone direct his steps. To complete their journey, they must walk down the steps in one metro, board one of the carts, ask a stranger to give up their seat since the drunk man cannot remain standing, exit the metro, go up a several sets of stairs, wait for the metro to come, board another car, ask another stranger to give up their seat, exit the car at the proper stop, and then go up more stairs. After that, it's a walk home in the cool, dark night. And when I say 'they', I mean the friend must while doing his best to hold up the drunken buddy. He manages somehow. He seems to move by willpower alone. Everyone is giving them judgmental looks. The task requires more than the friend has to give. And even the drunk man feels the quest for home is impossible and gives up several times; allowing himself to fall completely to the ground or trying to just sit in one spot. I believe that the drunk man's friend is the greatest friend I have ever seen. Although he know the situation is impossible -you can see hopelessness in his eyes if you dare to look at such a disgrace- he pushes onward giving everything he can. He clearly has some sort of love for his friend to fight for him. His heart is clearly loyal to allow the drunk man's shame to land on him. And he is truly brave for trying to do what he cannot.

The third character is me. I am a young student, barely old enough to be called an adult and many tell me my face looks much younger. I am apprenticed to a missionary and I have less than an hour of time to get home before curfew. I ride the same metros as these two men and I see their struggles. I see others around me casting shameful looks on the two men. And what should I do? Here, two voices of reason speak call out to me. The first one speaks and tells me the situation is too dangerous, to stay far away from that man. Who knows what sort of awful things such a strange man could or would do to me. I ought not to even look in his direction and I should move as far away from him as I can. It tells me 'look out for number one!' Maybe I should even get off the metro so I won't be in the same car as him. But other voice says just the opposite. It says 'help that man! He surely needs it!' It tells me to slow my steps so that I can be near enough to catch the man when he inevitably falls. It tells me to take the free arm of the drunken man and assist the pair up the stairs and on and off the metro cars. The first voice declares 'but he is dirty, drunk man!' And the second voice quietly reminds me of a time I suddenly became quite ill while riding my bike home from the library. And how I stumbled into a gas station and called for help, but everyone ignored me believing me drunk or insane. How do I know that this man is drunk. Perhaps, he is only sick. And the first voice repeats it warnings and calls to safety.

Who shall I listen to here? To which Reason do I heed?

The first voice is repetitive and firm, but second seems to be a track set to random. First a song:

Yesterday while walking,

Beneath an overpass,

I saw the figure of Jesus,

Standing barefoot on broken glass.

His beard was graying,

The smell of Urine filled the air...

And then a verse:

'For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.' Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.'

And then a reminder of a class where the teacher told us about going to the Voodoo pit to preach the Gospel to those worshipping idols there.

"Greater love has none but this that he give up his life for a friend..."

And all have hated,

Crucified and walked away,

Savior of the prostitutes

drunkest, rapist and the gays.

And finally: 'it's not about me, I am not "Number One."'

The metro pulls up to my metro station. As I prepare to depart I see that behind me the "drunk" and his friend are also getting off. The friend barely manages to get his companion out of his seat. It's quite a miracle the man has not yet passed out and become unmovable. They shuffle to the door. And I am in front of them. I step out of the car and then turn to them to in concern for there is a gap between the car and the platform. The safety voice begins to win. 'This is not your problem,' it says, 'others will disapprove." The drunk man does not clear the gap, he falls and drags his noble friend down on top of them. Everything is quite in my head as I dash forward to help. I see that the 'drunk' man's arm has fallen into that gap along with his bag that is wrapped around his wrist lest he drop it. I grab the bag and the arm and start pulling! That metro could take off at any moment and that man's arm would go with it. And suddenly two strong men are there pulling up those that have fallen and helping drag them away from the danger and to a nearby bench. In all of this, a 50 grn bill lands so I snatch it quickly before it gets lost and hand back to the loyal friend whose pocket it fell from. The friends eyes show that he knows what almost happened. And as all Ukrainians are prone to do, the noble friend waves away the those who helped. The two strong men offer to help further, but leave as the friend declines their offers of assistance. And little voice says 'walk away.' And in that sudden need to clarify confusion, I do. As I reach the top of the platform stairs I stop again and turn back. The men are still sitting on the bench where they were left. I want to stay to help them up the stairs... they're not ready to try yet and I move on some more. Through the gates and out the swinging doors.

Have I completed my duties to that man?

It was a good thing I waited to be sure they got off alright!

I should have taken that man's arm before he stepped down, then they wouldn't have fallen.

You should not have endangered yourself like that!

That man needed help. As a Christian it's my duty to do so. I was sworn to it the night I was baptized.

No more helping drunk men. It's dangerous! They could hurt you.

I would far rather see myself hurt because I was helping those in need, than to see others hurt because I did nothing.

If I had not suddenly jumped to the men, would the other two people have noticed?

There was no smell of alcohol.

Sheep and goats.

Broken glass.

Paul in prison. Shipwrecked.

The teachers all talk about violating conscience. Did they just mean all that about alcohol or does it apply other choices? If I had walked away instead of waiting out side the car, would I be able to sleep tonight?

I only see myself guilty of doing the right thing.

It's not about me.

Godspeed.

News!

Today was the first Sunday we got to use our new songbooks! We have enough books now that we don't have to split each one between three people, and we didn't have to carry books between services either! One book for both English and Russian assemblies!

There are 100 of these books, so we have them divided between the 6 or so places we regularly meet for our assemblies and devos.

On this day.

Ten years ago today, I woke up to get ready for school. I was in the Fourth grade, and so young. I always got dressed and put my schoolbag together before going upstairs to eat my breakfast cereal and make my lunch. Coming up the stairs I found out that there was something exciting playing on the TV in Dad's room that had distracted everyone else from getting ready for school. That meant it was super exciting and I was very curious as to what it was. I wasn't quite sure what I was seeing on the TV. There was a grainy portion of video footage and then an animated replay to show what happened. I didn't understand what was happening and I thought it was just a movie.
And then a second plane hit the other tower. And we were watching people try to evacuate in such a panic. On that TV, I even saw people jumping out the windows. I still didn't understand that those were real people jumping from such heights that it killed them only because they thought they had a better chance than running down the stairs. I have been told that for some of the people they did have a better chance in those impossible leaps.
The video feed continued and the towers collapsed one after the other. And there was news that a plane had taken out part of the Pentagon. And then there was a Forth plane that had crashed near a place called "Camp David." No one was quite sure what was happening, but they were looking for these things called "black boxes" that all airplanes had and were surely indestructible and contained video and sound recordings. And at some point I found that what was on the TV was really happening. I'm not sure whether or not I got to see it all live but I saw so much of it.
And so I learned that there were such places called "The Pentagon," "The World Trade Center," and "Camp David" just minutes after those people called "terrorist"(I had not heard of them either) attacked them. The younger children will learn of these events second hand and will have no recollection of them for themselves. And maybe in a few years that students will begin to lose interest in those events just as we tuned out so much of our history classes*. I suppose that I can be sure most of the children in Forth grade were only just born that year. Some of them may even be celebrating their birthdays today, not quite understanding why the adults all seem sad or treat their day with such graveness.
When I got to school that morning, I looked to the Principle Mr. Eric for advice. He was only and elementary school teacher but everyone looked upon him as such a wise man. When some one had vandalized the school earlier in the year, we all looked to him and asked him how to respond to such things. He told us that we should not acknowledge such things. The bad people who had done the vandalism just wanted attention and were probably hiding among the rocks of the hill that over looked the school. However, he had such opposing advice on the morning this specific narrative takes place. That morning he told that we should talk about the horrible things that had happened. We should show those bad people that they cannot stop us, and will not discourage us. He also told us it was healthy to share our feeling about these things. I don't remember anything else from that day. I don't remember if the classes were half empty, only that they weren't canceled. I don't recall how my teachers or the other adults in my life reacted. The last memory I can share about that event is this: we lived near two airports and under several common flight routes. Every night as I went to bed I would hear airplanes go over head and would be filled with fear that one of those planes would target my house or my school. It took me some time to convince myself of the logic that there wasn't anywhere in Mesa that would make a good target. (I had overheard that from some adults, but I don't recall who. Maybe God managed that so I would feel less fear...)

We have not forgotten.

Surely, you say, this blog is about the happenings during Dawna's time in AIM! Why should she write about such things? Then I must reply that this collections of words contains not just stories of my activities, but my thoughts and feelings also. Today, although I am in a country far away, join my fellow Americans in remember those we lost. When I was very little. I remember hearing that everyone who was alive at the time would always remember the day Kennedy was assassinated. I knew that such a phenomenon could only be caused by a true tragedy I never thought that such a thing could happen in my life. But we find that it did.
This make me wonder if the same was true about the death of Christ. Surely such a scene was etched into the minds of his followers at the very least. In light of that it wouldn't be hard to blame Thomas for wanting more proof when the others told him that they had seen Jesus alive and well again. It would be like hearing that the towers suddenly rose back up again and all those who were lost were found sitting at their desks in perfect health!

Thank you for reading though this special post. We will continue back to our normal posts soon!

God Speed.

* Not me of course. I loved learning history and never took my eyes off teacher except to take notes. :P