Jul 15, 2005, July 2005

At the beginning of the month I was in Toronto and spoke to a gathering of about a thousand people. When my talk was over a young man came up to me and said that I didn't know him but he knew about me. And then he reminded me of an incident six years ago. In the spring of 1999 I was asked to speak in Thailand and on the way decided to stop in Hong Kong to visit the woman who had printed my book. While there I also visited the Missionaries of Charity and they asked me if I would go with them on a trip to Macau which is an island about a two hour ferry ride from Hong Kong. The sisters have a center that and on arrival they said how happy they were to see me since they were in despair over a young girl in their care who came from a very good family, the family had finally that would no longer have anything to do with her because her drinking and drugging was so disruptive and painful for everyone. The sisters were at a loss as to how to get through to her. Would I help? I wasn't sure what I could do; I was only staying overnight, but I thought I could at least chat with her. I knocked on her door and when a young voice asked me to enter I found myself looking at a very pretty, disheveled young woman. I dove rightin, thinking it best not to dwell on her drinking or drugging, instead I talked about the adventure and challenge of stepping across the threshold into this whole new way of life. Because I knew she was religious, I said that God must have some major job in mind for her because he had sent me, one of His Green Berets to steamy Macau to find her. Who on earth must she be that I would be brought from faraway New York to this tiny little place, to sit on the edge of HER bed--bringing this message? We had a grand time and in the morning she hugged me and said a tearful goodbye. For me, she was just one of the many hundreds of people I've talked to over the years. I didn't give the incident a second thought. Then in Toronto, this young man told me he recognized my name and wanted me to know that the young girl I spoke to at the Missionaries of Charity House in Macau stayed sober after I left, got married, had a child and was very happy. I burst into tears. All we can ever do is scatter seeds and every-so-often we are given to see some of those seeds come to fruition. Many times we are not given to even see. Still we keep on scattering.