Life Clichés (3): Il n'y a pas d'hommes civilisés, il n'y a que des hommes qui se cultivent

- Handmade Clothing and Sandals - Personal Cliché -

It was a foggy day. The landscape was enchanting. Mountains engulfing us in their vivid green colour. Nature didn't mind drowning me with its beatific presence. In that place everything looked so peaceful, and serene. Ending in such a place, was a serendipity caress, that few seconds were enough to rejuvenate my sleep-deprived composure. 

Caught in the marvellous scenery, I stood there quite a time, enough to be left alone under the rain while everyone was rushing inside the chapel behind me. Only then, I ran and hid under the entrance porch.

The hostess didn't take long to arrive, and escorted us inside. The narrow corridor, the wooden little chairs, the small crux hanging on the wall, the space had a minimalist arrangement that was loudly spiritual.

We were invited to sit around a table in what seemed to be a small conference room. There, sister B. welcomed us heartily, and reverently declared that this reminded her of François d'Assise's encounter with the Egyptian Sultan.
There was centuries of common history between us, that finally we were experiencing together. We were embracing a lost contiguity that we had in common for centuries. Such a heavy burden to be holding, and behold.

According to her François's stay in Egypt, conversing with the sultan, was met with an open heart and mind. A long stay during which, both engaged in a rich conversation about their shared grounds.
Later on that year, I hopelessly looked in the Internet for the authentic story, and wasn't met with promising results, as a great deal of contributors mentioned that it was only a legend, and no more.

I was caught off guard by her sincerity and joy, and before I knew it, I was in for a "wild-ride".  Dazzling was her discourse, of which I couldn't write much, half the time I was restraining myself from crying my heart out, before its beauty. It's not her eloquence that charmed me, rather her vivacious candor.  When she spoke of Mercy and the Divine Love, it was not some Rumi's verses I was gathering, but the essence of his poems. For a second, I wasn't hearing words, but feeling the meanings they conveyed.

She spoke of the "Soul's face", as she was unveiling hers : compassionate and humane. Through her life, she kept seeking the Truth, a journey along which she lost and learnt.

By the end of our meeting, she concluded bitterly how the current misunderstandings of ALL sorts, result from a shared intellectual laziness.

"The raison d'être for our existence and our belief  is to strive for Humanity".

For weeks, I couldn't get over her words. And years later, I still occasionally fetch my diary to reflect on everything she said , and I am delighted that every word takes me back to that rainy evening.

- ABZ Cliché -