The Power of Sharing Stories – Part Two

Thank you for your wonderful reaction to last week’s blog.  I was so encouraged and touched by your love and comments, so much so that I have decided to extend an invitation to some good folks to share their stories. 

Every single one of us is trying to navigate the complexities of life, I do believe that in getting to know each other through sharing our stories, be they happy, sad or a touch foolish, we are encouraged to peel away at our own prejudices and to start practising tolerance and acceptance.

So here’s one of my stories…….

Many years ago, forty four years ago to be precise, some friends invited me to the musical “Hello Dolly” playing at the Port Elizabeth Opera House.  It was a very, very hot evening and if my memory serves me correctly the air-conditioning was out of order or just plain non-existent.

Everyone was furiously fanning themselves with their programmes; some even used beautifully painted hand held fans.  The performance was absolutely top class, well directed and acted, with superb sets accompanied by a very talented cast.

A few minutes before the finale, in our row we were experiencing our own drama!  A woman was desperately trying to “wake” her husband, who seemed to be in some kind of distress.  This poor woman started off gently trying to get a response from her husband and when that did not work she started shaking him in a very rough manner!

Having just completed a very comprehensive Emergency Medical certificate offered by the Port Elizabeth Technicon, a well presented and thorough course covering any kind of emergency and eventuality like birth, treating burns, rescuing folks from burning buildings, how to deal with choking, drowning, mouth to mouth resuscitation and the like, I decided to spring into action.  Here was my moment, my chance to save someone’s life, I crept along the row until I reached the man, without feeling his pulse or checking his vital signs, I removed his tie and opened his shirt, grabbing him by the shoulders (why I don’t quite know, fling him to the floor, or maybe, to start resuscitation?) This lovely elderly gentleman woke up!! Horror of Horrors he woke up! “What are you doing to me?” He said. I must admit that he did seem to be a bit confused and lost. His wife was furious with him, thankfully, not me, retrieving his tie; I slunk back to my seat embarrassed at the whole experience. You know that feeling when you want the ground to open up and swallow you. Yip, that’s exactly how I felt. I over reacted and did not follow correct protocols. 

Admittedly, it is a very funny story!  My father always used to say:  “find the humour in a situation and laugh at your own idiosyncrasies;” I happily and gleefully shared this story.

Until one day, it dawned on me that some people, decided to use that story to belittle and make fun of me.  The constant jibes became more hurtful, almost bordering on being vicious.  One day I snapped and told them in no uncertain terms to get a life, get a grip and to stop being foolish.  I never related that story again for fear of the same kind of nasty reprisal.

That is until an incident that took place during COVID.  I was meeting a colleague, we were going to discuss planning and organising a “Story Exchange” session with a bunch of students.  Before exiting my car I decided to refresh my lipstick (ridiculous, considering we had to wear masks) however it just made me feel good.  I became aware of a young person standing close to my car, watching the lipstick process with much interest.  I greeted her and then realised that this person was Trans.  I enjoyed the joie de verve; however I was under no illusion of exactly what she did for living.   With much laughing and shrieking from both of us, just at the sheer joy of being alive and on this planet, she asked me for some lipstick, so I gave it to her and said that she could keep it.  She used the side mirror of my car to apply the lipstick and then, hopping and skipping, off she went and we parted.  Unbeknownst to me the person I was meeting told me that what he had just witnessed – my encounter with the young woman – was just magical and kind.

During the course of our meeting about the planned “story exchange” I decided that I could trust him with the story of the Opera House, his response just made my heart skip a beat.  He didn’t laugh, instead this is what he said: “you know, Gail, if ever I was in a life-threatening situation I would pray for you to be in attendance, even if you misread the situation, at least, I know you would react and do something, and that, my friend, is what life is all about, people just taking a chance by stepping up for others!”

I cried, for the first time in a very long time I had a sense of freedom and I felt safe and I certainly was not foolish, just misguided and overzealous and more importantly just kind.

Every story told is a lesson that teaches us to be kind or sympathetic or encouraged to do and be better, all we have to do is to find the gift and use it.

And if you laughed outrageously at my story – good for you, I have just had a good belly laugh, remembering a twenty-five year old woman trying to resuscitate a sleeping man in the Opera House (nogal).