ÅSGÅRDSTRAND (VG): Mary was a newlywed and ready to move to Norway, but was stopped at the airport because she didn't have enough money for the trip. Then a stranger turned up and paid for her.
Mary Menth Andersen was 31 years old at the time and had just married Norwegian Dag Andersen. She was looking forward to starting a new life in Åsgårdstrand in Vestfold with him. But first she had to get all of her belongings across to Norway. The date was November 2nd, 1988.
At the airport in Miami things were hectic as usual, with long lines at the check-in counters.
When it was finally Mary's turn and she had placed her luggage on the baggage line, she got the message that would crush her bubbling feeling of happiness: "You'll have to pay a 103 dollar surcharge if you want to bring both those suitcases to Norway", the man behind the counter said.
Mary had no money. Her new husband had travelled ahead of her to Norway, and she had no one else to call. "I was completely desperate and tried to think which of my things I could manage without. But I had already made such a careful selection of my most prized possessions," says Mary.
Although she explained the situation to the man behind the counter, he showed no signs of mercy. "I started to cry, tears were pouring down my face and I had no idea what to do. Then I heard a gentle and friendly voice behind me saying, 'That's OK, I'll pay for her.'"
Mary turned around to see a tall man whom she had never seen before. "He had a gentle and kind voice that was still firm and decisive. "The first thing I thought was, 'Who is this man?'"
Although this happened 20 years ago, Mary still remembers the authority that radiated from the man. "He was nicely dressed, fashionably dressed with brown leather shoes, a cotton shirt open at the throat and khaki pants," says Mary. She was thrilled to be able to bring both her suitcases to Norway and assured the stranger that he would get his money back. The man wrote his name and address on a piece of paper that he gave to Mary. She thanked him repeatedly. When she finally walked off towards the security checkpoint, he waved goodbye to her.
The piece of paper said 'Barack Obama' and his address in Kansas, which is the state where his mother comes from. Mary carried the slip of paper around in her wallet for years, before it was thrown out.
"He was my knight in shining armor," says Mary, smiling.
She paid the 103 dollars back to Obama the day after she arrived in Norway. At that time he had just finished his job as a poorly paid community worker in Chicago, and had started his law studies at prestigious Harvard university.
In the spring of 2006 Mary's parents had heard that Obama was considering a run for president, but that he had still not decided. They chose to write a letter in which they told him that he would receive their votes. At the same time, they thanked Obama for helping their daughter 18 years earlier.
In a letter to Mary's parents dated May 4th, 2006 and stamped 'United States Senate, Washington DC', Barack Obama writes: "I want to thank you for the lovely things you wrote about me and for reminding me of what happened at Miami airport. I'm happy I could help back then, and I'm delighted to hear that your daughter is happy in Norway. Please send her my best wishes. Sincerely, Barack Obama, United States senator"
The parents sent the letter on to Mary.
This week [we] met her and her husband in the café that she runs with her friend Lisbeth Tollefsrud in Åsgårdstrand. "It's amazing to think that the man who helped me 20 years ago could become the next US president," says Mary delightedly.
[Originally printed in VG newspaper in Norway; translated by Leisha Camden.]
Saturday, 8 November 2008
Monday, 3 November 2008
True story about a Brahmin who chose Jesus at the age of 19! Amazing!!
Anand Mahadevan is the editor of Outlook Business
I, The Convert
My conversion was not a change of religion; it was a change of heart
Anand Mahadevan
I was born a Brahmin and am the grandson of a priest whom I dearly
loved. I am educated and my current professional standing indicates
that I am reasonably intelligent. I am also affluent and my income
would put me distinctly in the upper middle class bracket. I guess
that would make me high-caste, rich and smart. In other words, I am
not a tribal, or poor or dim-witted. And yet, I chose to become a
follower of Jesus Christ.
The world would call me a convert to Christianity. I have no problems
with that, though I see my faith more as a relationship with God
through Jesus Christ than as a religion. And for the record, I can
truthfully claim that no one financially induced or threatened or
deceived me into converting to Christianity.
I am fiercely proud of my national identity as an Indian and I am
completely at peace with my cultural identity as a Hindu. I retain the
name my parents gave me. My wife, who also shares my faith, continues
to go by her Hindu name. We have two children and we have given both
distinctly Hindu names. In fact, many of my colleagues and
acquaintances who may happen to read this column are likely to be
surprised. They have no inkling about my faith, for I generally don't
go about announcing it. But if someone does ask me the reason behind
the joy and hope that is everpresent in my life, I am always delighted
to share it with them.
I write this piece to make one point—that my conversion was not a
change of religion but a change of heart. To explain this, I need to
go back to my childhood in Chennai, similar to that of so many other
Tamil Brahmin boys like me. My grandfather, every bit the virtuous
priest, had enormous influence over me. I absolutely adored him and as
a toddler, always clung to him. He too loved me to a fault. There was
no wish of mine that he would not rush to fulfil. But even in my
early, formative years I was unable to relate to the religion he
fervently practiced. Later, in my school days, I once spent my summer
holidays with him in Trichy. Memories of dawn walks with him, for the
ritualistic dip in the Cauvery river, cow in tow, are still fresh in
my memory. I learnt many shlokas, some of which I still remember. But
I never understood any of it and none of it helped me connect with
God.
When I was 19, a Christian friend with whom I used to play cricket
invited me to his house for prayer. If he had invited me to a pub, or
party, I would have gone too. At his home, he and his sister prayed
for me. It was a simple yet delightful conversation with God that
lasted all of five minutes. I don't remember it verbatim, but they
articulated a prayer of blessing on my life, future, career and
family. It was a simple affair—no miracles, no angels visiting. All
they did was utter a deep human cry out to the creator God and His
only son Jesus Christ. When they said Amen, I felt in my heart a
desire to follow Jesus.
It was a faith encounter with God that I shall not even attempt to
understand, rationalise or explain. I simply accept it. It is my
faith. It is what I choose to believe. That evening I did not change
my religion, for in reality I had none. Hinduism was my identity, not
my religion. It still is.
The Christianity I acquired that evening is not a religion. On the
contrary, it is an intensely intimate relationship with Jesus. Over
the past fifteen years, I have come to know this Jesus even closer. I
know Him as the pure and sinless Son of a Holy God. And I know Him as
a dear friend to whom I pray and talk to every day—about my career, my
dreams, successes, failures, finances and even my sexuality.
If I read a good book, watch a good movie (Rock On is terrific, mate),
or eat a good meal at a new restaurant, I would naturally tell my
friends about it.In Jesus, I have discovered a truly amazing friend,
guide, leader, saviour and God. How can I not tell all my friends
about Him? And if anyone does listen and he too comes to believe in
Jesus, I am delighted. The world would call it a conversion; I call it
a change of heart, like mine.
But I would never force anyone to listen to me, leave alone
financially induce, coerce or con him into believing. That to me is
pointless and against the very grain of my faith. But I do have a
constitutional right to practice my faith and to preach it without
deception, force or bribery. It pains to see such basic rights of
mankind being cruelly violated every day in this great Hindu nation.
God bless India.
(I, Reshmi the blog owner, would like to add as a post script an emotive comment by my friend Kashmira, a Zoroastrian married to a Sikh army officer (retired). How true her words are!
I'm glad you posted this Resh...Anand has made a very profound statement somewhere in between.."Hinduism is not my religion, it is my identity!" How true. If only we all thought of our respective 'religions' like that! If at all there was meant to be a religion in the first place, it was that of humanity and humaneness! Personally, I feel ALL 'religions' lead us to the same destination....Eternity !!....like all flights to New Delhi will take you only there, so why fight over which airlines you've chosen to travel by ? It's entirely a personal choice. It's the destination we ought to focus our sights on, not the mode of transport! Besides, the people creating a ruckus today, over whose religion ought to be given the top priority, are doing it not because of their love for their faith - no, they couldn't give a hoot about it...it's power that they are after, and who best to fool than our mindless, guileless, directionless junta ? May God grant our people good sense and insight to be able to sift through the muck and glean the truth! God Bless!)
I, The Convert
My conversion was not a change of religion; it was a change of heart
Anand Mahadevan
I was born a Brahmin and am the grandson of a priest whom I dearly
loved. I am educated and my current professional standing indicates
that I am reasonably intelligent. I am also affluent and my income
would put me distinctly in the upper middle class bracket. I guess
that would make me high-caste, rich and smart. In other words, I am
not a tribal, or poor or dim-witted. And yet, I chose to become a
follower of Jesus Christ.
The world would call me a convert to Christianity. I have no problems
with that, though I see my faith more as a relationship with God
through Jesus Christ than as a religion. And for the record, I can
truthfully claim that no one financially induced or threatened or
deceived me into converting to Christianity.
I am fiercely proud of my national identity as an Indian and I am
completely at peace with my cultural identity as a Hindu. I retain the
name my parents gave me. My wife, who also shares my faith, continues
to go by her Hindu name. We have two children and we have given both
distinctly Hindu names. In fact, many of my colleagues and
acquaintances who may happen to read this column are likely to be
surprised. They have no inkling about my faith, for I generally don't
go about announcing it. But if someone does ask me the reason behind
the joy and hope that is everpresent in my life, I am always delighted
to share it with them.
I write this piece to make one point—that my conversion was not a
change of religion but a change of heart. To explain this, I need to
go back to my childhood in Chennai, similar to that of so many other
Tamil Brahmin boys like me. My grandfather, every bit the virtuous
priest, had enormous influence over me. I absolutely adored him and as
a toddler, always clung to him. He too loved me to a fault. There was
no wish of mine that he would not rush to fulfil. But even in my
early, formative years I was unable to relate to the religion he
fervently practiced. Later, in my school days, I once spent my summer
holidays with him in Trichy. Memories of dawn walks with him, for the
ritualistic dip in the Cauvery river, cow in tow, are still fresh in
my memory. I learnt many shlokas, some of which I still remember. But
I never understood any of it and none of it helped me connect with
God.
When I was 19, a Christian friend with whom I used to play cricket
invited me to his house for prayer. If he had invited me to a pub, or
party, I would have gone too. At his home, he and his sister prayed
for me. It was a simple yet delightful conversation with God that
lasted all of five minutes. I don't remember it verbatim, but they
articulated a prayer of blessing on my life, future, career and
family. It was a simple affair—no miracles, no angels visiting. All
they did was utter a deep human cry out to the creator God and His
only son Jesus Christ. When they said Amen, I felt in my heart a
desire to follow Jesus.
It was a faith encounter with God that I shall not even attempt to
understand, rationalise or explain. I simply accept it. It is my
faith. It is what I choose to believe. That evening I did not change
my religion, for in reality I had none. Hinduism was my identity, not
my religion. It still is.
The Christianity I acquired that evening is not a religion. On the
contrary, it is an intensely intimate relationship with Jesus. Over
the past fifteen years, I have come to know this Jesus even closer. I
know Him as the pure and sinless Son of a Holy God. And I know Him as
a dear friend to whom I pray and talk to every day—about my career, my
dreams, successes, failures, finances and even my sexuality.
If I read a good book, watch a good movie (Rock On is terrific, mate),
or eat a good meal at a new restaurant, I would naturally tell my
friends about it.In Jesus, I have discovered a truly amazing friend,
guide, leader, saviour and God. How can I not tell all my friends
about Him? And if anyone does listen and he too comes to believe in
Jesus, I am delighted. The world would call it a conversion; I call it
a change of heart, like mine.
But I would never force anyone to listen to me, leave alone
financially induce, coerce or con him into believing. That to me is
pointless and against the very grain of my faith. But I do have a
constitutional right to practice my faith and to preach it without
deception, force or bribery. It pains to see such basic rights of
mankind being cruelly violated every day in this great Hindu nation.
God bless India.
(I, Reshmi the blog owner, would like to add as a post script an emotive comment by my friend Kashmira, a Zoroastrian married to a Sikh army officer (retired). How true her words are!
I'm glad you posted this Resh...Anand has made a very profound statement somewhere in between.."Hinduism is not my religion, it is my identity!" How true. If only we all thought of our respective 'religions' like that! If at all there was meant to be a religion in the first place, it was that of humanity and humaneness! Personally, I feel ALL 'religions' lead us to the same destination....Eternity !!....like all flights to New Delhi will take you only there, so why fight over which airlines you've chosen to travel by ? It's entirely a personal choice. It's the destination we ought to focus our sights on, not the mode of transport! Besides, the people creating a ruckus today, over whose religion ought to be given the top priority, are doing it not because of their love for their faith - no, they couldn't give a hoot about it...it's power that they are after, and who best to fool than our mindless, guileless, directionless junta ? May God grant our people good sense and insight to be able to sift through the muck and glean the truth! God Bless!)
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