BROTHER’S KEEPER

What if contribution, love, and mirth could be paths to even greater happiness?

 

“It is the quiet acts that happen beneath the surface that matter most. That’s the best path to happiness.”

– Melissa Pritchard

“Everyone loves the sentiment from the Bible that I am my brother’s keeper. I am responsible for you. I will care for you. But sometimes it’s hard to do. We want to be good brother’s keepers, we do, yet the pressure of our own lives tugs at the seams,” Melissa tells me.

***

Moments before going over to her friend William’s place, Melissa – an award-winning novelist and university professor at the time – tells me her first article is coming out soon in O Magazine. She is committed to write more humanitarian stories. She says she needs “to be grown up now. Try to wear nicer clothes and be serious.” Concerned about William, Melissa now is on the phone with the police “Wellness Check,” who will investigate someone’s welfare if a concerned citizen calls.

“He’s an amputee,” she says.

“Is he in a wheelchair?”

“No, he lost his arms in Egypt. But that’s another story.”

***

Two policemen arrive outside William’s apartment.

Anxiously, Melissa explains, “William has lost limbs, traveled across the world, yet this was the first time in five or six years of friendship I’ve ever heard him complain.” She continues breathlessly, “The doctor had thought it was a migraine after the ambulance took William to the emergency room. He could not drive: he was blinded by the pain and taking strong medication. Maybe it was a wrong diagnosis… We all were supposed to meet today. He said he would call or text. It’s not like him. He always answers his phone. Always.”

Melissa Pritchard

The policemen are leaning off the balcony of William’s apartment, peering through the blinds.

“Son? Son?” Melissa is steadily banging on the door, ringing the bell.

“He calls her Mom,” I chirp to the police.

One policeman says, “I can’t break down the door, Ma’am. You understand.”

Continuing to chime in, I add, “His mom in Africa told William he should do whatever Melissa says,” as if this will convince the police to break down the door and violate civil rights.

While sitting on the steps outside William’s apartment, Melissa says, “He had such integrity. Almost more than anyone else I know. Wait! I’m already putting him in the past tense.”

We’re saying anything we can think of to convince these officers to open the door. Everything we say sounds goofier and goofier. But character reference won’t open the door…

The policemen keep looking, banging on the door, calling out to him. They finally have to leave and tell us what to do if we find him. But first, they file a report.

They ask Melissa, “What’s your name? Date of birth? The person’s name? Black male?”

“No, no blackmail. Me? Am I getting in trouble?”

“No. Black…male,” I say, softly.

The police exchange glances as our credibility and sanity are reconsidered. “Dude, I could have been a detective,” I imagine one saying as they return to their car.

William Mawin…

Meanwhile, William, who had been taken in by a friend’s aunt, concerned that he not be left alone in his condition, wakes up from a deep afternoon sleep. He retrieves his phone from his friend’s car only to find a torrent of texts from Melissa. He writes her back, quickly: “I’m sorry mom…tank you so much see that you really there for me mom love you son.”

Relieved, we both take a deep breath and start to relax. We look at each other, then begin to laugh uncontrollably at ourselves.  “So much for being grown up and serious…”

Or maybe we already are…enough.

***

After meeting William at a Lost Boys of Sudan party that Melissa hosted at her home, Melissa and William developed a friendship. Melissa has since helped put William through school, given him money when his car has broken down and when he needed extra cash. Yet she is not a wealthy woman. She has been living on a university professor’s salary supplemented by writer’s royalties and helps support her two daughters. Yet she still gives to William.

…Adaptation… 

When I finally meet William, he shares his story with me.

Injured in a fire, then raised by his grandmother before he was five, he was captured on horseback, taken away from his home in Sudan, enslaved. His back bears scars where he was beaten.

The captors took many children. William planned his escape to Egypt for five years.

In Egypt, he slept on the streets. Lived in a cardboard box. Lined up at church to get meals daily. Worked in a rubber factory where he lost one arm and part of his other hand. Was flown to America for assistance. He knew he was in America only because he saw the Statue of Liberty from the plane.

In the U.S., he did not speak the language, had no money, couldn’t do sign language. He went to the children’s section of the library to learn English. All these kids at story time and William.

As a night watchman, he had flashbacks about his capture, being tied and thrown on the back of a horse, people being eaten, girls being raped. He thought he was going crazy. Then he’d go home and watch TV. Numb it. In a rut. Isolated.

Melissa awoke one morning after getting to know William with a clear vision she had to help him. William said later she saved his life, his dream. Melissa says it’s like helping kids – pushing the back of their bicycles, holding it as they steady themselves and gain momentum, and then letting go. Now others are taking care of him; he’s getting scholarships, entering writing competitions for money and prizes.

…Courage…

***

Americans dream of having their work recognized by Oprah. Today – on the day that Melissa and I also meet with William – the O Magazine featuring Melissa’s story hits the newsstands. In a quiet moment, Melissa leans to me, wide-eyed, and says, “Why is the phone not ringing, people calling my agent, paparazzi lining up outside the door?” She adds quickly, “Our ego – we have to train to keep it at bay; otherwise it grows like a weed.”

Meanwhile, William is laying out his plan to return home, bring farming equipment to his village so people can produce their own crops. He wants to build a school and knows people will not go to school if they are hungry. He also wants to build a medical clinic and bring Melissa to his village to share all of this with her.

“He looked taller than before as he stood there,” Melissa tells me later.

She adds, “We never know the ‘quiet acts’ — how they will ripple. We get caught up in the ‘large ones.’ Our ego seduces us, tests us. The tests get more subtle the more we grow.

“The ego is a source of sadness,” she says. “Always wanting, craving more. Sometimes I get what I want, then I just want more. That’s the path of misery.

“I used to always seek to do these acts for recognition or to love myself more: Not any more.

“It is the quiet acts that happen beneath the surface that matter most…That’s the best path to happiness.”

…Lighthearted

***

How can we experience more of this joy in our own lives?

1. “Don’t take yourself so darn seriously,” as Wayne Dyer used to say. Can we laugh at ourselves more, even when we’re supposed to be “grown up”?
2. Practice quiet acts of contribution and love, and have faith that our efforts will ripple outward. We can always step into our Brother’s shoes, feel what he needs, connect with empathy and know that, as we serve another, we move toward greater unity.
3. Keep tending our (ego’s) garden. Sometimes our ego can propel us to do powerful work in the world; it doesn’t have to be unhealthy. Yet, we need to keep tending it. When I connected with Melissa Pritchard recently, having recently written what she considers her “opus,” she also says: “I’m savoring life enormously now that my old work ethic (driving myself constantly) has relaxed and I appreciate the infinitely unfolding beauty in each moment…and the simple joy of breathing, of being here now.” When we can balance both, maybe then our gardens really bloom.

 

Jillian Robinson Weaver is an Emmy-winning TV Producer, Author/Photographer, and Coach, whose passion is to help people live their Highest Self. Come join her on Instagram for daily “Coffee Conversations…” where she does just that! https://www.instagram.com/jillianrobinsonweaverccwg/. Looking forward to seeing you there!