The Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” —Genesis 12:1 (nrsv)
I’d met Say at the St. James Shelter years ago. He was a refugee of the USA’s military actions in Indonesia. His father had fought with us and had been abandoned to the communist regime when we left. Say does not like to talk about his early life; members of his family were tortured, lost, killed. Say’s struggle to survive and make progress is courageous and gut-wrenching.
Just when I thought there was nothing left to know about Say, I was sitting in a coffee shop with a friend. Say seems to live off of coffee, especially after he’s added five scoops of sugar, so it was no surprise to see him there. He did not meet my eyes; he knew I was frustrated and impatient with him for being irresponsible with his paycheck and his excuses. I introduced my friend, but Say wandered off.
Soon we heard the most beautiful melody. Say was playing classical music at the coffee shop’s piano. Lifting his head for a moment to meet my astonished gaze, he grinned as if to say, “Don’t close the book on me yet.”
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