With Grace and Gratitude
It was a Thursday, almost two decades ago, when I was still an undergraduate student at University of California, Davis. Those were the days of less convenience and much less on quantity, but more face-to-face time and greater quality—the pre-cellphone and pre-Uber kind of days.
My day started at 8:30am and ended at 11:30pm. Two cups of coffee didn't do the job, so I struggled to get by the last two hours. I also missed my last bus after my Healthcare BLS Certification course unexpectedly ended late that night. Tired and hungry, I had to think quickly and strategized how to get home safely. I thought, if I followed the path with the street lights and walked fast enough, I’d make it home by midnight.
Fortunately, a 50-year-old lady named Elsa happened to walk by and insisted on offering me a ride home after she had seen that I missed my bus. I recalled passing by Elsa in my class earlier in the evening, though I didn’t have any chance to interact with her. Quite hesitant at first, I secretly did a quick screening of Elsa to ensure that she was a safe person, as my life experience had taught me. Trusting my gut instinct, I accepted her offer and thanked her in advance for her help. During our drive, I realized that she had some challenges with night vision. Before we approached my neighborhood, I asked her to drop me off at the corner of the block and I could just walk in, so she wouldn't have a hard time finding her way out.
She firmly refused my request. I would hate to see a girl like you walking down the street late at night like this. If I have to drive another ten miles to get you home safely, I will. Now, please tell me the exact location of your apartment and I will drop you off there. She said in the most kindest and sweetest voice, that almost two decades later, I still remember her every word so clearly like yesterday.
Touched by her heartfelt sincerity, I showed her the way into my neighborhood. She moped into the long parking lot, rolled up next to my building, waited for me to walk up the stairs to my door, then waved goodbye to me after seeing that I was able to open it and ready to come inside.
Then, I closed the door behind me and looked out after her through my window until her taillights vanished from my sight. In that moment, I made a prayer and sent it with her. I prayed that she gets home safe and sound. I prayed that she takes good care of herself. I prayed that life treats her kindly. It was all that I could do to repay her for what she had done for me. Our paths never crossed again after that, but her kindness has lived on in me. And that feeling of truly being seen by someone, anyone, a stranger even … is quite magical; it certainly has the way with the heart.
Isn’t that what true kindness is all about? It is often so subtle and quiet—it doesn’t ring our doorbell, make a grand entrance, seek acknowledgement or make public service announcement for its touch on our lives. We may miss it in a heartbeat when we’re too busy planning our next meeting, trying to win our next argument, rushing to our next destination, or quickly turning the page to our next chapter. True kindness leaves footprints on our hearts. For in its presence, we feel loved—a sense of hope, a reminder of home. And once it departs, we are forever changed.
It is through chance encounters and meetings of souls like the one I had with Elsa that always leave me in awe—how everything is all part of this magical web of interconnectedness. It’s certainly made me believe in earth angels—those who raise out their hands and lift us up when we fall short during our course of life, those who take the time and guide us home when we are lost and left stranded, those who stand by us and nurture us through all the troubles with their patience, show us our wings and teach us fly above our limitations. They may cross our path at any given time, stick around for some moments to serve their purpose, then disappear from our sight before we realize their significance. They may be some long miles away, a few steps apart, or walking along our side, looking after us and watching over our shoulders all these years and we haven’t a clue.
The truth is, I have been blessed many times, to have received the gifts of Grace throughout my life thus far. Such gifts have often presented themselves through acts of kindness and generosity from someone like Elsa. Other times, those gifts have shown up as small nudges of intuition and gentle knocks on my door. And despite not knowing whether I have ever been ready to leap into life’s unknowns, I have always paid attention, listened to their calls and said Yes to their invitations.
My Hopes for You:
As we’re entering a new cycle, I hold you in my thoughts with these gems I’ve gathered for you. They are harvested from my own journey and lived experiences. Pick one that resonates most with you and take it along with you for 2021.
I hope you say Yes to precious moments, possibilities and opportunities that invite you to step away from the familiarity of your comfort zone, and allow them to guide you to the shimmery uncharted waters with offerings that are far more grander than what you have planned for. Along the way, I hope you bravely say No to distractions—like things, people, relationships, limiting beliefs, paradigms, and unrealistic expectations that are no longer serving your highest good. I hope you listen to the quietest nudges of your intuition, answer their calls and encounter many meetings with like-hearted and like-souled that inspire you, cherish you, and nourish you.
In a world of black-and-white thinking and all-or-nothing worldview, I hope you color outside the lines, embrace many shades of brown and create your own rainbow with a wide range of hues. And when you must walk the line between light and dark, I hope you choose the path with heart. Even when it’s the hardest, I hope you take the high road and the one less traveled, but bring your street smarts along and keep your wits about you, for those are things that books, theories, and research don’t teach you in school.
I hope you see with clarity that true kindness is not necessarily the CEO or celebrity who is praised for donating their small change to charity. But it is the one toiling behind the scenes, one who gives away his last twenty-dollar bill to feed the needy. It is not the one who teaches and preaches yet fails to practice, but it is the one who is in the frontline and deep in the trenches. It is the one whose heart is full and warm, who prepares the lessons and educates your children to be better humans. It is the one who walks the margin and uses their own light to shine the way and guide others home.
I hope you find the courage to have difficult conversations and speak up for truth in a room blanketed with lies and silence, even if that may bring discomfort and tensions. After all is said and done, I hope you keep your dignity by graciously leaving the table and exiting the room when respect is no longer present, when what’s being served no longer feeds your heart and soul. I hope you give yourself the closure you have been waiting for, moving on and starting over, even if you may have never received a proper goodbye. I hope you always choose you.
I hope you know that part of your healing journey will break you open so that you’ll come undone, but only to dismantle those walls you’ve built and strip apart those masks you’ve worn, to reveal that beautiful flower within you that has been hidden for so long. And part of your learning to love the whole you will require that you own up to your mistakes, forgiving yourself for all the wrong turns you’ve made, and for all the roles you’ve played. Don’t shy away, for these are all great lessons—once you learn them and pass the test, you won’t have to repeat them again. That is how the universe works.
I hope you get to slow down, retreat and befriend solitude, and marvel at the beauty in you and of those around. For beauty is not the one who frowns and clowns on another’s success, but it’s the one who uses their skills and talents to build their own tux and sew their own gown. It is not the one who stands by and watches one woman tear another woman down. But beauty is the one who bends and lifts others off the ground, the one who helps the fallen pick up her own crown. For beauty is the woman who has found her power in grace and kindness.
And whenever you get a chance to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance and always keep on dancing. Or even better, let life be the dancer, and you, be the dance.
May we set our highest intentions to enter a new cycle and create a better world with greater healing, grander love, deeper wells of truth, fuller cups of peace, overflowing joy, many more authentic connections, and a whole lot of kindness.
With grace and gratitude,
Hoa