We can use a knife to cut something or it can cut us, depending on how we hold the knife, by the handle or by the blade. Similarly, we can be touched and transformed by what we encounter depending on our open disposition or the lack of it, it is a question of perspective.
A Resurrection Moment
In 1989, during my regency with the Missionaries of Charity in the “City of Joy,” Calcutta, I often had to commute via the overcrowded local trains. Once, while hanging onto a running train for dear life, I found myself leaning outward in search of some breathing space—shoulders away from the rest, balancing on my toes at the very edge, and clinging on with one hand. During this precarious journey, amidst the chaos of passengers hanging out from the bogies behind me, there was a sudden eruption of screams and yells. Being new to the city, I couldn’t comprehend a word of Bengali and wondered what it was all about. Then, a fellow passenger beside me put his free arm around my neck and pulled me close to himself. In that split second, I noticed from the corner of my eye just how dangerously close an electric post was to my head. The speeding train passed by, and with it, the screaming and yelling ceased, replaced by a palpable silence—a collective sigh of relief from those behind me who had glimpsed the impending disaster. When the train stopped at the next station, all of us who had been leaning out of the door disembarked. My eyes and ears scanned the crowd, searching for the face of the person who had saved me and the faces and voices of those behind me, so that I could shake their hands and express my gratitude with a smile. It would have been instant death if he had not pulled me close to him—it was a moment of resurrection and new life. Though 35 years have passed, I still get goosebumps as I write this. I cherish that ‘thank you’ and that smile in my heart for all those gentle souls because of whom I am still alive.
Fr. Babu Jose Pamplany OFM
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