Stories, whether fictional or real awaken us to things we never knew. They can be memorable, never to be forgotten moments that drive our lives in new directions.
This perhaps explains my fascination with autobiographies. Hannah Arendt in the Human Condition writes, “Who somebody is or was we can only know by knowing the story of which he is himself the hero.”
My own life has been shaped by many stories. I have vivid memories from when I was just five or six that changed me in ways that stuck with me through the years. I thought I’d share one story and invite you to consider your own.
A Six Year Old’s Perspective
As a child we moved a lot; not just from city to city but internationally as well. While such frequent moves had a questionable effect on my formal education, they exposed me to experiences that awakened me in ways I am grateful for.
As a child of six, living in Mauritius, I encountered first hand, poverty and the devastation that annual cyclones brought to this tiny island nation. It didn’t make sense that people would rebuild their homes, only to have them blown down again the next year; the second floor of their homes awkwardly balancing on the rubble of the first floor. Clearing away the debris and rebuilding seemed like an exercise in futility to my six-year-old brain.
Mauritius is home to many ethnicities although our family related mostly to the ex-pats. We spent week-ends on bleached white sands that held the endless deep blue ocean at bay. It was idyllic in many ways. But that came to an end the day I discovered a group of Indian women rummaging through our garbage cans. They were pulling out our vegetable peelings in order to make curry for their families.
I peered through the leaves of the lychee tree in perplexed fascination, until one of the women saw me and they scattered. I ran into the house and told my mother what I’d seen. I didn’t know people were so hungry that they would eat what we had thrown away. I felt an urgent sense that we should do something. My mother turned back to the pot she was stirring and said, “Unfortunately, life isn’t fair.”
I didn’t buy it. I thought about the incident a great deal in the weeks thereafter; that life should be fair, and there must be a way to make it fair. Perhaps that is how a daughter of a CEO was drawn into the nonprofit world rather than following in the footsteps of her father into industry.
There were many times I cried because moving so often meant continually losing friends and always feeling behind in academics. It would take a whole year to catch onto the curriculum only to move again. Old math, new math, I never quite got math! But I’m grateful that we moved around because I saw and experienced things that school cannot teach.
My story taught me to never underestimate what kids are thinking.
Your story matters
Inside each one of us is a story too valuable to ignore. I hope you can explore your story. You may even hear God’s voice mixed in the memories.
This process may help you rediscover forgotten truths:
Think of a moment in your life that left an impression on you? Don’t overthink it. It doesn’t have to be the most important thing in your life.
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What does this story say to you?
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How has it changed the way you think or prompted you to act?
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