A few days ago at work, I was having one of those days where I was in a rut and just couldn’t break out of it. Nothing terrible, mind you—just grumpy, I suppose.
As I made my rounds, I saw a group of three elderly Filipino couples (they looked to be in their early to mid-70s) taking pictures of themselves in front of a statue. One person would take a photo of the rest of the group, then hand the camera off so he could be in the next picture.
I offered to take a photo for them so they could all be in it together. One of the grandmothers said:
“No! Don’t take the picture! Come and be in the picture with me!”
Some customers standing nearby giggled, but her companions just smiled and nodded. They stepped aside and pulled out their cameras. Suddenly, I found myself posing for this impromptu paparazzi crew—alone with this grandmother—while her friends excitedly snapped several photos of the two of us.
(It’s not unusual at work for people to stop me and ask to take pictures with me. I’m very handsome, after all—hahaha! Naaah. I know the truth is they’re taking pictures with my stomach! Especially our Chinese customers: “Ooooh! Looka da beeeg Polynesian!”)
Anyway, after what felt like a lot of pictures, I glanced at my new friend and noticed she was crying. I thought, Oh no—what did I do? She held both of my hands in hers, looked up at me, and said:
“You remind me of my grandson. He was big and strong and kind, like you.”
She kissed my hands, wiped her tears, then turned and began to walk away. Her husband—a small man, maybe a good foot shorter than me, his back slightly hunched—put his arm around my back and said softly:
“She misses him. He was a big boy, like you. He was supposed to come with us on this trip, but his cancer got worse, and he passed away about a month ago.”
I muttered some feeble words of condolence and told him how sorry I was. Though small in stature, I could feel his strength as he shook my hand and squeezed it tight.
“Boy,” he said, his voice trembling as he fought back a swell of emotion, “be good. And do good things with your life.”
He smiled, patted my back twice, and went to catch up with his wife and their friends.
Suddenly, all the things I’d been grumbling about earlier felt small and insignificant. In a moment that lasted no more than two minutes, my entire outlook on the day changed.
There isn’t enough time to worry and stress over petty things. Our time here is short, and we should focus on doing good things with the time we’ve been given.
I’m grateful for this reminder—from a sweet Filipino grandmother, her husband, and a grandson I never got to meet.
Salamat po!
