The ship docked in Haifa at nine in the morning. Hal had never been to Israel before. As he stepped off the gangplank he wondered if this trip would change anything. His life had recently become a maelstrom, which left him questioning the validity of his modus vivendi.
His job loss, a correction in the stock market which had cost him dearly, his daughter's clandestine drug problem; these plus a litany of other problems made him wonder if he had been channeling his efforts in the wrong direction. Perhaps he had focused on the wrong things all along. It was time to search for the right ones. At the time he had decided on this trip it had seemed like a step in the right direction. Now he wasn't so sure. The air around him was charged with something he could not decipher, its pervasive sense of ancient history belying the modern sights confronting him. He felt uneasy and restless.
He was soon walking around the port, purposefully studying everything he saw, admiring the cleanliness and giving thanks for the feel of terra firma beneath his unsteady sea legs. That same morning he bought a ticket on a bus departing for Bethlehem. While boarding, he glanced down the rows of passengers. Most of them were nondescript, except for one who immediately drew his attention.
She was a thin girl, almost to the point of seeming emaciated. She was about thirty-five and wore long robes that were old and dirty. There were some odd looking ornaments attached to a soiled leather thong around her waist and she sported a crew cut. Her face had a noble quality and despite her shabby clothes, her demeanor radiated calm and innocence. She was not beautiful at all; in fact quite the opposite, but her stoic expression gave her an inner beauty, which had nothing to do with physical appearance.
For some reason, at least to Hal she seemed out of place aboard the bus. She sat very still with her hands in her lap and met his cursory glance with steady eyes that glinted like moons in an emerald sea. For an instant he looked directly into her eyes and at the serene face which was in such stark contrast to the state of her decrepit attire. Not wishing to appear rude, he looked away and busied himself with his seat belt.
Soon they were underway. Hal watched the scenery fly by as the bus driver increased his speed. He looked across the aisle and caught the girl studying him intently. He quickly averted his gaze, but found himself drawn to her over and over again. Each time he stole a glance in her direction he would inevitably find her looking at him. Finally, feeling somewhat ill at ease, he walked over to her seat and spoke.
"Do you mind if I sit down?"
She shrugged her thin shoulders. "Of course not, I expected you to sooner than this." The statement was a matter of fact one, the voice soft and melodious. The words were spoken quietly and without allure. Her accent seemed foreign to him, but Hal could not place where it was from.
He took his place in the seat next to hers, lit a cigarette and asked, "Why do you keep looking at me?"
She looked at him and replied. "I can tell there is something troubling you. It is easy to sense this and maybe I can help. Since you will never see me again you can unburden yourself."
Hal spread his hands, his confusion growing, "I can't," he said. "I'm not sure about it myself."
"But you can and you must try," she insisted. "There can be much of value in talking to someone like myself, a complete stranger on a bus. Someone you will never see again."
"I'm not sure," he repeated, "But I can tell you this. I know why I'm going to Bethlehem. I'm going because He was born there."
"Who is this He you refer to?" she asked.
"You know, the Lord!" he retorted, but was immediately contrite. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm tired and it's been a long trip."
"Of course. I know who you mean."
"Who are you?" he asked.
"It is not important," she replied. "I am a Buddhist nun. It was karma that we should meet."
"No kidding. Imagine that, me talking to a Buddhist nun. I don't know much about Buddhism. I mean, if my friends back in the States could see me now, boy would they get a kick out of this. Tell me something, Buddhists don't believe in God, do they?"
She looked at his charcoal gray suit, and then her eyes focused on the smoke emanating from his cigarette. "Perhaps not in the way you do. There is no God the way you label the being, but there are similarities in religions, more so than we realize, and I like to think that the end is the same."
"Which is?" he prompted.
"In a short while we arrive at my stop. I have neither the time nor the capacity to explain to you what many wise men and theologians have devoted their lives to studying. I do not understand myself. I will, however, give you an example of Buddha's presence and what he can do."
She propped an elbow on the windowsill of the bus and began. "One night, a few years ago, I was walking along a deserted road. There was nothing in sight. It was very far to the nearest town and very late. I was weary and could barely stand when I heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. Soon a car stopped alongside of me. There was a very handsome man driving. I could tell he was of good breeding and he offered me a ride. I thought about it very hard and almost refused, but because it was late and I was tired I stepped into the car. As we were about to drive away a small puppy dog ran into the middle of the road, blocking the path of the car, barking so frantically that I thought it would go into a seizure. The road was very narrow. There was no way to drive around the puppy so the man got down from the car and stooped to pick it up. As soon as he did this it ran away from him to the side of the road. The man returned to the car, but no sooner had he sat behind the wheel than the puppy was there again, barking furiously in the middle of the road. I said I would try to remove him, but when I stepped out he bit my robes and began pulling me in the opposite direction of the man and the car, whining all the way."
She arched her eyebrow and Hal shivered. He took a final drag off his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. A plume of smoke shot up rebelliously.
"Suddenly," she continued, "I felt very cold all over, and I heard myself telling the man that I did not want a ride. The puppy's eyes lit up, his tail started wagging and he let go of my robes. He placed himself between me and the car on the side of the road and began barking again. The man said nothing, slammed the door of his car and spinning his tires quite rudely, drove off. This could not have taken more than a few seconds, but when I looked again the puppy was gone. I searched everywhere and called for it, but finally, frustrated in my search, I continued my journey. The next day I read in the newspaper, alongside a picture of the very same man, that he was being sought by the authorities in connection with the disappearances of three young girls. I believe that it was beyond doubt a manifestation. Do Christians not preach that one is never alone, that if one has faith, the Lord will always be there? It is the same with Buddha. He is always there. Our brothers in their lamaseries are never isolated though the image of them that is popular is that they are recluses in the mountains. They are not alone. The Buddha is with them. So you see, do you not? If you have faith, your karma will be completed and He -in the sense that you believe in a higher being whom we revere- will help you."
The bus slowed and came to a stop, "Ah, I am truly sorry. I have enjoyed speaking with you but now I must get off. Goodbye, and remember what I have said. You are not alone."
She gathered up her robes and stood up. "Now repeat after me. U la lo ho."
Hal, his mouth agape, said, "U la lo ho," his own voice sounding very strange to him.
"Wait," he called after her as she sidled down the bus, "What does it mean?"
"The God is victorious," she said, and with a wave was gone.
Hal let out a long breath and scratched his head in wonder. He rubbed his arm across his forehead and found that he was sweating. He wiped his brow with his handkerchief and continued on the rest of the way to Bethlehem.
When they reached the town Hal went immediately to the church of the nativity and knelt at the star, which marks Jesus' birthplace. Amidst the clamor of clicking shutters and exploding flashes, he genuflected and crossed himself. A knee dug into his back. The mayhem around him increased as people jockeyed for a better vantage point from which to view the star. He began to pray silently. He prayed even harder when an irate voice cried out, "Hey move along buddy, you're holding us up, we got the Wailing Wall at four this afternoon!" A baby screamed and he clenched his hands tighter, praying even more fervently. Losing all track of time, he gradually became unaware of the surrounding noise. The last thing he sensed was a scuffling sound somewhere behind him. It seemed light years removed.
Eventually, he was bodily removed from the church, but it was another hour before he realized he was no longer at the star. It was getting dark and the bus had departed long ago. Everything was very still. Hal remembered the nun's story. When he looked up, through the dusky haze he glimpsed a star twinkling back at him. Suddenly all the problems associated with his frantic lifestyle seemed to dissolve, languishing even further away in his thoughts than his remote homeland.
His job loss, a correction in the stock market which had cost him dearly, his daughter's clandestine drug problem; these plus a litany of other problems made him wonder if he had been channeling his efforts in the wrong direction. Perhaps he had focused on the wrong things all along. It was time to search for the right ones. At the time he had decided on this trip it had seemed like a step in the right direction. Now he wasn't so sure. The air around him was charged with something he could not decipher, its pervasive sense of ancient history belying the modern sights confronting him. He felt uneasy and restless.
He was soon walking around the port, purposefully studying everything he saw, admiring the cleanliness and giving thanks for the feel of terra firma beneath his unsteady sea legs. That same morning he bought a ticket on a bus departing for Bethlehem. While boarding, he glanced down the rows of passengers. Most of them were nondescript, except for one who immediately drew his attention.
She was a thin girl, almost to the point of seeming emaciated. She was about thirty-five and wore long robes that were old and dirty. There were some odd looking ornaments attached to a soiled leather thong around her waist and she sported a crew cut. Her face had a noble quality and despite her shabby clothes, her demeanor radiated calm and innocence. She was not beautiful at all; in fact quite the opposite, but her stoic expression gave her an inner beauty, which had nothing to do with physical appearance.
For some reason, at least to Hal she seemed out of place aboard the bus. She sat very still with her hands in her lap and met his cursory glance with steady eyes that glinted like moons in an emerald sea. For an instant he looked directly into her eyes and at the serene face which was in such stark contrast to the state of her decrepit attire. Not wishing to appear rude, he looked away and busied himself with his seat belt.
Soon they were underway. Hal watched the scenery fly by as the bus driver increased his speed. He looked across the aisle and caught the girl studying him intently. He quickly averted his gaze, but found himself drawn to her over and over again. Each time he stole a glance in her direction he would inevitably find her looking at him. Finally, feeling somewhat ill at ease, he walked over to her seat and spoke.
"Do you mind if I sit down?"
She shrugged her thin shoulders. "Of course not, I expected you to sooner than this." The statement was a matter of fact one, the voice soft and melodious. The words were spoken quietly and without allure. Her accent seemed foreign to him, but Hal could not place where it was from.
He took his place in the seat next to hers, lit a cigarette and asked, "Why do you keep looking at me?"
She looked at him and replied. "I can tell there is something troubling you. It is easy to sense this and maybe I can help. Since you will never see me again you can unburden yourself."
Hal spread his hands, his confusion growing, "I can't," he said. "I'm not sure about it myself."
"But you can and you must try," she insisted. "There can be much of value in talking to someone like myself, a complete stranger on a bus. Someone you will never see again."
"I'm not sure," he repeated, "But I can tell you this. I know why I'm going to Bethlehem. I'm going because He was born there."
"Who is this He you refer to?" she asked.
"You know, the Lord!" he retorted, but was immediately contrite. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm tired and it's been a long trip."
"Of course. I know who you mean."
"Who are you?" he asked.
"It is not important," she replied. "I am a Buddhist nun. It was karma that we should meet."
"No kidding. Imagine that, me talking to a Buddhist nun. I don't know much about Buddhism. I mean, if my friends back in the States could see me now, boy would they get a kick out of this. Tell me something, Buddhists don't believe in God, do they?"
She looked at his charcoal gray suit, and then her eyes focused on the smoke emanating from his cigarette. "Perhaps not in the way you do. There is no God the way you label the being, but there are similarities in religions, more so than we realize, and I like to think that the end is the same."
"Which is?" he prompted.
"In a short while we arrive at my stop. I have neither the time nor the capacity to explain to you what many wise men and theologians have devoted their lives to studying. I do not understand myself. I will, however, give you an example of Buddha's presence and what he can do."
She propped an elbow on the windowsill of the bus and began. "One night, a few years ago, I was walking along a deserted road. There was nothing in sight. It was very far to the nearest town and very late. I was weary and could barely stand when I heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. Soon a car stopped alongside of me. There was a very handsome man driving. I could tell he was of good breeding and he offered me a ride. I thought about it very hard and almost refused, but because it was late and I was tired I stepped into the car. As we were about to drive away a small puppy dog ran into the middle of the road, blocking the path of the car, barking so frantically that I thought it would go into a seizure. The road was very narrow. There was no way to drive around the puppy so the man got down from the car and stooped to pick it up. As soon as he did this it ran away from him to the side of the road. The man returned to the car, but no sooner had he sat behind the wheel than the puppy was there again, barking furiously in the middle of the road. I said I would try to remove him, but when I stepped out he bit my robes and began pulling me in the opposite direction of the man and the car, whining all the way."
She arched her eyebrow and Hal shivered. He took a final drag off his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. A plume of smoke shot up rebelliously.
"Suddenly," she continued, "I felt very cold all over, and I heard myself telling the man that I did not want a ride. The puppy's eyes lit up, his tail started wagging and he let go of my robes. He placed himself between me and the car on the side of the road and began barking again. The man said nothing, slammed the door of his car and spinning his tires quite rudely, drove off. This could not have taken more than a few seconds, but when I looked again the puppy was gone. I searched everywhere and called for it, but finally, frustrated in my search, I continued my journey. The next day I read in the newspaper, alongside a picture of the very same man, that he was being sought by the authorities in connection with the disappearances of three young girls. I believe that it was beyond doubt a manifestation. Do Christians not preach that one is never alone, that if one has faith, the Lord will always be there? It is the same with Buddha. He is always there. Our brothers in their lamaseries are never isolated though the image of them that is popular is that they are recluses in the mountains. They are not alone. The Buddha is with them. So you see, do you not? If you have faith, your karma will be completed and He -in the sense that you believe in a higher being whom we revere- will help you."
The bus slowed and came to a stop, "Ah, I am truly sorry. I have enjoyed speaking with you but now I must get off. Goodbye, and remember what I have said. You are not alone."
She gathered up her robes and stood up. "Now repeat after me. U la lo ho."
Hal, his mouth agape, said, "U la lo ho," his own voice sounding very strange to him.
"Wait," he called after her as she sidled down the bus, "What does it mean?"
"The God is victorious," she said, and with a wave was gone.
Hal let out a long breath and scratched his head in wonder. He rubbed his arm across his forehead and found that he was sweating. He wiped his brow with his handkerchief and continued on the rest of the way to Bethlehem.
When they reached the town Hal went immediately to the church of the nativity and knelt at the star, which marks Jesus' birthplace. Amidst the clamor of clicking shutters and exploding flashes, he genuflected and crossed himself. A knee dug into his back. The mayhem around him increased as people jockeyed for a better vantage point from which to view the star. He began to pray silently. He prayed even harder when an irate voice cried out, "Hey move along buddy, you're holding us up, we got the Wailing Wall at four this afternoon!" A baby screamed and he clenched his hands tighter, praying even more fervently. Losing all track of time, he gradually became unaware of the surrounding noise. The last thing he sensed was a scuffling sound somewhere behind him. It seemed light years removed.
Eventually, he was bodily removed from the church, but it was another hour before he realized he was no longer at the star. It was getting dark and the bus had departed long ago. Everything was very still. Hal remembered the nun's story. When he looked up, through the dusky haze he glimpsed a star twinkling back at him. Suddenly all the problems associated with his frantic lifestyle seemed to dissolve, languishing even further away in his thoughts than his remote homeland.
2 comments:
The tale you tells is enjoy. I like it.
And I think every religions and every school of thought to meet at their end. The mountain base is large and the mountain top is just a point. You believe God and God in everywhere.
I wrote some short story and some poem but I can't translate into English! What a pity! My English is very terrible (smile).
Your English is just fine. It is a pity because judging by the entries in your blog, I would very much like to read what you have written.
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