This is written flying back over the Atlantic, daytime flight, which is marvellous.  It meant getting up at 4.30 a.m., but that is far better than being up all day, all night, and all day again.  Actually it is a very empty plane, so I have four seats in which to catch up on my sleep later.

Right now I am awake and ready to write about what a wonderfull trip I had, and some of the people I met.  I was an exact mouth on the road — or perhaps I should say in the air and on the road. 

The first place I visited was Manchester, in England, for a T.V. interview, where I discovered that I shared a birthday with one of the interviewers, so we got along well right from the outset.  I was in London overnight before taking the Channel Tunnel train for Paris.

Paris was interesting, but harder work for me than for some, because my French is rotten.  Incredibly, it snowed like crazy the night before I left — so hard that when I woke up in the middle of the night, anxious about my taxi back to the station in the morning, it was a total white-out.  I couldn't even see the next building!  So much for April in Paris!

However, by daylight it had stopped snowing and the roads were all passable.  The only hold-up after that was a terrorist bomb alert at the London station, so we were stopped at the French end of the tunnel, and sat waiting in a snow-white field for two and three-quarter hours.  By the time we got to London, all was as usual.  I assume it was a false alarm.  Maybe someone either said something stupid, or left a piece of luggage behind!

From London I flew to New York, and all went well.  That evening I went out to dinner, and the following day started work.  I find jet-lag is much worse coming back from America to Britain than going out.  I dare say when I get home tomorrow evening — after a night in London, then a day flight north — it will all catch up with me, and I will be bumping into things for a day or two.

As always, I met with kindness, and most interesting people, but this time three remarkable women stand out in my mind.  I could easily refer to them as “the beautiful people.”

The first was a policewoman in Union Station in Washington D.C.  I was early for my train to Pittsburgh.  I had more than an hour to wait.  We had given the journey from the hotel far more time than it needed, expecting traffic to be heavy because of the Pope's visit.  It was fairly early. The day was fine, but the air pretty sharp outside.

On the far end of the very comfortable seat where I was sitting, an elderly black woman was asleep.  The much younger white policewoman approached her and spoke quietly, waking her up.  Then she asked her if she was waiting for a train.  It was pretty obvious that actually she was homeless and had been there all night, out of the cold, but the policewoman never hinted at that.  Without once robbing her of her dignity, she helped her get up, assemble her belongings and move on.

I spoke to her to compliment her on her tact and kindness.  She thanked me, and we fell into conversation.  She told me about some of her other concerns for the injured and those in trouble, jobless or homeless.  Especially she was concerned in raising awareness of and finding help for returned veterans from Iraq or Afghanistan who were unable to care for themselves. 

There are plenty of places for men, but because in the past it has always been men who were seriously injured, maimed, or blinded in war, there is very little indeed for women veterans.  She spoke of one woman helicopter pilot who had lost both her legs.

That rather puts one's own difficulties into perspective!

What a beautiful woman! With the full support of her husband, her efforts go into helping others — not her own immediate family, just anyone in need.

“Love they neighbour as thyself,” the Lord told the young man who asked about the greatest commandment.

“And who is my neighbour?” the young man asked.

The story of the Good Samaritan was the Lord's answer. Every child of God — without exception.  “Insomuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

“If ye love only those who love you, what reward have you?  Even the publicans do as much” — even the tax gatherers for Rome!

What a fine woman! She is possessed of an inner beauty that will last forever.

Saved by the Girls in India

Another woman I met for far longer, because she drove me for two whole days in San Francisco. She had experienced crippling spinal pain, which without surgery would have been permanently disabling.  She suffered appalling pain for a considerable time, and a resulting sense of helplessness and depression.  For a while she was lost in despair.

Then she decided that as soon as she was able to travel, regardless of her own pain, she would go to India — where she had heard of girls, still children, who had been taken into slavery, tortured and used for adult men's sexual pleasure.  Many have been rescued and are in desperate need of help, care, and teaching how to begin a life of self-respect, trust in affection, and having some skill so they can become normal (as much as possible after their treatment) and in time provide for themselves.

Her comment was not, “I am saving them.” Rather, she said, “They saved my life.”  She works for money and saves to go back and live simply and work with them whenever she can.  Again, this is with the support of her husband.

She is another truly beautiful woman.  And incidentally she was physically beautiful as well — tall, graceful, with an hourglass figure, blue eyes, long blonde hair and a lovely face.

“Love thy neighbour” — even if she is of a different race, and culture, and half a world away.

Actually my new friend is Jewish, but surely living the teachings of Christ — as do many people of every age and race and culture, perhaps not because they are taught to, but simply because they care.

Building Houses in Mexico

The third woman drove me in Los Angeles, but has spent her holidays in Mexico helping to build houses for the homeless — again living very simply indeed and working as hard as possible.  This year she is saving to take her stepson with her, so he too may experience the pleasure and satisfaction of such a gift.

All these women I would guess are in their forties.  I know the one in San Francisco was, although she looked far younger.  But they will always be beautiful.

And I feel happy and uplifted because I have met them.  I am even more determined to do what I can to help, to uplift, to encourage, to offer whatever skills I have to make someone else's journey a little easier.

There is no greater reward for me than when someone tells me that something I have written has made a hard, lonely or painful time less difficult.  And it happens quite often.  They are thanking me, but I don't think they realize what a gift they have given me.  I try to tell them, but I wonder sometimes if they think I am merely being polite.  I'm not — it is the gift that can never be spent, wasted or lost. It is the water of life that refreshes forever.

I spent a few days with old friends in New Jersey, which was marvellously restful after so long moving about every day, and being “on parade” as it were, even although that is exciting, and rewarding beyond measure.  But there is little in the world as comfortable as old friends — in this case, good people who have spent their working lives teaching children, often underprivileged ones.  Now they are retired, and there was time just to have fun.

Living the Word of Wisdom

I was driven to the airport this morning by a most interesting limousine driver, now in his sixties, but very fit and spry — and slim — which is not all that odd (sixty is young enough, heaven knows!), but he has had rheumatoid arthritis since he was nineteen!  He has kept it totally under control by diet, apart from bone spurs which have to be surgically removed.  As he said, you are what you eat!

I wonder if perhaps we do not take the entirety of the Word of Wisdom quite seriously enough?  Yes — no tea, coffee, alcohol or tobacco.  But what are we doing about plenty of grain, fruit and vegetables in season, and meat only in times of winter, cold and famine?  We need sufficient rest — and sufficient exercise!

I would add plenty of water — perhaps that wasn't considered necessary to tell us then because everyone knew it without being told.

It would not have been necessary to tell us not to eat finely processed food, or pre-prepared food heavy with chemicals and preservatives either, because such things did not exist.

This man had kept his illness —very serious one, crippling to most — completely in control, moving easily and gracefully, because he abstained from meat, especially red meat, ate lightly cooked vegetables, fruit, grain, and so on (not even chicken, but I think he included fish), and nothing pre-prepared orf with preservatives.

Perhaps if we are overweight, if we are tired, lethargic, have aches and pains when we move — we might consider if we already have been given much of the answer, if we followed it more diligently.

Of course there are real illnesses that require medical help and intervention, and it is not always easy to know exactly which foods are good and which are not — but there is someone who does know!  And on our knees we can find out!

On this trip I have been eating ice cream — definitely something to be eaten sparingly.  It's back to a little sense for me, a great deal more self-control — the exercise rowing machine again.  At least I can do that for the five days I am at home until I leave for France, Italy and Spain again.  And then I'll work like crazy when I get home for a while at the end of May.

Like a lot of things, my health is in my own hands.

There is so much to do, to see, to learn, to build or create, so many people yet to meet, I need to be as well as I am able to be in order to do it.

What a gift life is!  The good and the less good, the easy and the difficult, the beautiful and the harsh or ugly, the infinite possibilities of experience, now while the chance is here.

I wish you a vivid and beautiful month.