Wings Of A Nightingale

Ordinary Miracle

You never know the time and place when or where your help will be needed, and a simple act of kindness makes a big difference in somebody’s day…or life.

It was a beautiful mid-summer day. The soft and gentle blowing of the breeze may neutralize the rising temperature to a certain degree, but the weather was warm and the sun was shining without traces of clouds. My car was parked in an open parking lot in one of the wholesale store and pharmacy. I went there to pick up my prescription medicine. When I finally got out of the store, I noticed a van parked right beside my car. Its side door was open and as I approached, I could hear a fussy cry of an infant and a woman, who I presumed to be the mother, appeared desperate to pacify the baby. There were two other small children inside. The woman was holding a formula bottle, but the baby still continued to cry. I was prompted to walk near the van and asked if everything was ok. The woman said that the family was on their way for a long drive to Southern California, and they just passed by the store to pick up some food and drinks for the trip. They were about to leave the store, but the engine won’t start. Apparently, the battery died down because the headlight was accidentally left turned on. For how long? They have no idea. The woman said her husband went out to buy a jumper cable to jump start the car. I could feel that the inside of the car was so warm, as they could not turn the air conditioner on. I hurriedly went back to my car and turned it on, so as the AC, then asked that the baby be transferred to my car while waiting for her husband. It could be that the heat inside their van was the reason why the little one was uncomfortable and so fussy. I saw a smile of relief and gratitude on the woman’s face.

It was an almost fifteen minutes wait until the husband came back. The baby was already dozing off. I offered to use my car to jump start their van’s engine. Finally, the engine sprung back to life. Frustration faded, gratitude emotionally expressed, as the family went back to their van to start the six hour long journey. I bade them goodbye as I eased my way out of the parking lot.

Five words…”Thank you. God Bless You.” Words profoundly spoken coming from the heart. It was more than enough to substantiate a fact that each and every one of us can make a difference in the lives of people whom we touch. We just don’t stumble on anybody or anything. It was put there for a reason beyond our human mind can understand.

An hour ago, I went inside the store to just ran an errand, and when I left, a miracle…ordinary miracle happened.

-Lark-
3.28.13

I Just Write: A True Confession

I am not a poet or somebody of that sort…not even close. I wish I am. I JUST WRITE!
When I was invited to join an on-line Poetry Group, I got excited because as what the creator/main administrator said (and I quote) “this is where they can share their beautiful piece of poetry in any particular form or genre, written in great beauty, emotional sincerity, and profound insight on life.”
Wow! I said to myself, this is a site that I am free to share the articles that I wrote over the years, that has been archived in my old, crinkled, and pathetic-looking red book.

I’m a spontaneous writer. My inspiration comes from what I see or hear, from a word or phrase in a book that I read, or from a song that I listen to; practically from anything that catches my eyes, mind and imagination. I was not schooled nor have attended any seminars or workshops. I just write what I feel and feel what I write.

In my professional career as a nurse, I am bound to follow regulations and policies, to the letter, in black and white. There is no room for complaining because that’s how it is. But don’t get me wrong…I love being a nurse, and I can’t think of another profession that I can do at my best.

I find solace in writing poetry or essays. It keeps me away from this structured and regimented situation, because when I write, I don’t give a damn(pardon my French) whether I follow the rules (i don’t even have the slightest clue what the rules are) of poetry writing, or not. Again, I just write! And dang! It feels good! It feels good to express in words what I feel. Having that feeling of freeing myself, and drowning myself with words that is downloaded in my brain like it is connected to a wifi or a 4G network…it’s so amazing, I could taste it in my mouth.

-Lark-
3.10.13