When I was in Turkey, I saw a number of people with cats and
dogs as pets. It made me reflect upon the dearth of pets in Jordan. Sure, some
people have them, but it is a small number overall. Cats are mostly left
outdoors and if they happen to have an indoor home, most still retain their
feral guard about them. I don’t know many people here who can snuggle in a
chair with a cat.
The same goes for dogs. Dogs are considered dirty animals, a
far cry from the American’s “man’s best friend.” In the farmlands dogs are work
animals. I saw on Facebook the other day that a friend from Maine just brought
home a Black Labrador pup and I’ve been mourning the loss of a pet. It made me
think of the ways people are deprived of the companionship of a furry friend.
I saw my barber the other day as he was walking down the
street. He seems so happy and content with his life. Many people visit him
because he is a nice guy. I give him a tip, which he no longer refuses, because
he takes good effort to make sure I like his craft.
I felt so bad for him the other day when he showed me his
tri-fold wallet. He has only one photo in it and it is of himself when he was
in his late 20’s. It saddened me because it may be his only photo. Photos are
connections with our past and it dawned on me how uprooting it must feel not to
be able to have any memories to share with others.
I contrast my cheerful barber with other street vendors. One
of them mourns his situation in life; others sit back in their chairs and smoke
cigarettes. I want to become their business counselors so they can invigorate
their business by making themselves stand out, but, alas, I cannot do that
because they are not asking me for it. I just want better for them. I know how
hard work, dedication, and a vision can turn things around for people, but this
is not my culture and I can’t interfere.
At an LDS gathering last night, one person asked me, “What
is your most rewarding part of your ministry?” It felt odd to reply, “To listen
to their stories of hardship and suffering.” Each person’s story is different
and it is amazing the resiliency of some. Within their stories of heartbreak, I
can see much success and transcendence. This is the work I want to be in – to hear
and share stories.
I talked with one man this week whose story weakened me. I
like this man and my heart wants to do something for him, but my options are so
limited. Here is someone who is sincerely asking for help and his circumstance
is out of my jurisdiction; then there are others who do not ask for help when I’m
capable and available of providing some guidance. What a complex world we live
in.
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