Respect

I got my hot sweaty run all right; and a whole lot more...


As I was on my way out, Matthew asked if he could come too. He loves running around the block with me, and hence impossible to refuse some good father son time. Five hundred meters later, Matthew made his sprint to the finish.

And then I was off.

It was incredibly hot and the South Easter was gale force. With my arms pumping, heart pounding, and legs burning with effort, I charged at a snail’s pace into the teeth of the wind. The thought of a route that avoided it was enticing but the challenge of running headlong into a wall of fury sparked my imagination.

My legs seemed to have a life of their own, they just felt like running. I found myself loping up a particularly steep hill and then into the countryside. Surprisingly there was another runner up ahead. Catching him up, I discovered he was a big chap in his early sixties. We ran side by side for a couple of kilometres, sharing runner trivialities. The running seemed to be effortless yet my time had run out, and I turned for home.

The roaring of the wind in my ears was immediately replaced by music which had till then lost the battle to be heard. The wind pummelled me from behind, lengthening my stride, and the merciless sun solicited rivers of sweat from my tiring body.

The kilometres flew by and I was soon home. Fulfilled and fatigued!

It was only in the shower that the thought struck home. I had run a couple of kilometres with a sixty year old man, a man more than twenty years my senior, and he had effortlessly matched my pace into a gale force wind. He had talked of long runs into the mountains with glee and waxed lyrical about races longer than 160km.

Now that’s worthy of respect! And goes to show that age is never an excuse!

Old, Sick, & Forgotten

The wind was blowing feebly and the air was chilly due to the weather being sandwiched between two cold fronts. I parked the car at the Sir Lowry’s Pass train station. A lovely building which has been converted into a soup kitchen, and offers the services of a bakery, laundry, ablution block, and counselling room. 200 to 300 people pass through its doors every day, desperate and destitute. A sad reflection of life in this village!

Every day parcels are packed from donations of old Woolworths perishables, and then delivered on foot to the people too old or sick to make the walk to the station. My mission for the day was to join the volunteers as they handed out these parcels. I wanted to see the conditions under which these poor people live, and see if there is any way I can make a difference.

I hooked up with Cathy and Dolly, volunteers who themselves have nothing. Both of their husbands are out of work and money is non-existent. Their attitudes were humbling, instead of feeling sorry for themselves, they were out helping others. With great love and care they delivered the food parcels and chatted to the families in each house. There was much laughter and gaiety as they went about using the gifts of themselves to make a difference in the lives of people forgotten by society.

I met so many people and all gladly invited me, a complete stranger, into their homes for a chat. Some of their homes were lovely, carefully filled with ornaments and mementos. Others were nothing more than hovels. In some holes bigger than footballs peppered the walls and wet patches on the floor remained as testament to the recent violent rainy weather. One woman described how everything inside her house took off in the gale force winds.

God came up in every conversation. I was amazed at the depth of their faith, especially as they stood in broken bodies, in broken shelters, with futures as dim as mud. One man told me how he thanks God every day for his health. This is a man with glycaemia, can barely see, and cannot walk unaided. And he is thankful for his health. He is my new inspiration!

It was a touching morning. I felt that through my presence and conversation, I too had made a difference. But I could do so much more! A friend and I have come up with a plan to seek some funding. Then we aim to purchase materials and start doing home repairs for these people, hopefully training some unemployed youths in the process.

The benefits of a home visit will last a day or two. The benefits of simple repairs may last many years! Hopefully we can pull it off!

Old is Good

I had tea yesterday with the most interesting bunch of people. I laughed stacks. I heard a heap of true stories that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. And I ate two pieces of chocolate cake – my absolute favourite!

The average age of the people I met was on the far side of the 80’s. This was a group of elderly that had been rounded up by some caring people for an outing. The outing was a tea on a wine farm. Somehow I managed to sneak an invite even though my age profile was out by almost 50 years.

This outing was all about these old folk. Real people who get little attention and who have even less excitement in their lives! This was a big deal for them. Yet it was I who walked away on top of the world. Completely refreshed and rejuvenated.

There was lots of war talk, a period of history that fascinates me. Here I was listening to stories of people who had been there and survived it. More than that they had stories of the Great War that involved family and friends. Soon, the only way to learn about this stuff will be to read about it in a book!

I could not believe how interesting these people were and yet they are the ignored part of our society. Forgotten by the rest of us because we are so busy with our own lives! I really am surprised by how much I enjoyed the experience. I was there to help out and bring joy and comfort to their lives and ended up finding a piece of myself.

My future needs to involve more of this!!