Every night, when I lie down in bed after the day has passed with all its events, meetings, conversations, compliments, smiles, reactions, and meditations, I calm myself down and distance myself from any noise. In a gentle light I pray, then I sit and think for a few minutes, and sometimes this extends to almost an hour spent recounting the faces of the people I met, loved ones or friends, whether individually or in groups. Everyone speaks to me, complaining, complementing, laughing, chatting, contemplating, surprised, or questioning. I contemplate the faces of everyone, carefully listening to what they say, whether personal matters or general inquiries. There is always a generous portion of complaints in what I hear, all types of complaints, sometimes dissatisfaction, sometimes anger, sometimes not accepting reality, and at other times rebelling against reality.
In my bed, before sleeping, I reflect on these faces, astonished by what they mention to me. I try to connect it with situations I have gone through in my life, searching for the key to understanding life itself. I once read the phrase “He who knows love understands life,” and this is true, but what is the “key to life”? What is the thing that makes life acceptable, successful, and peaceful?
I remember in the early days of my ministry when I was 19 years old, the service leader at church asked me to visit a poor family and gave me their address. I went alone and the family consisted of a widow and five children: a daughter, who was 13 years of age, and four sons, the oldest being 10 years old. I was very astonished when I arrived, as this family’s apartment had very few furnishings and limited space. There was only one chair, on which they made me sit, while they all sat on the floor around me, and the mother was sick with the flu. What was strange was that they were so happy and thrilled by my visit, greeting me with heartfelt tidings. I sat there astonished by their kind condition, and I asked the mother: “Are you taking any medicine for the cold?” She answered with full contentment: “We don’t have the money to buy medicine, but I went to the priest at the church, and he gave me ‘five piastres.’ I bought an aspirin strip for one piastre, and I bought a kilo of oranges for four piastres, and I’m fine, thank God!”
We prayed, I gave out small pictures to the little children, and I left the family who was poor financially but rich in spirit. Although this story took place in the late 1960s, it is still etched in my memory, with the high spirit of satisfaction that I still see on all their faces. The days and years passed, the children grew, studied, graduated, married successfully, and were blessed due to the spirit of satisfaction that the great mother instilled in them.
I have met some who are filled with the spirit of satisfaction, truly, despite the harsh events, tribulations, and trials of life. My mother is one of these people. She was the only daughter being raised among six older brothers. She received her primary education at the Saint Demiana Monastery School in Bilqas, Dakahlia Governorate. At the age of sixteen, she married and moved with my father, who had moved from Mansoura to Sohag, then Damanhur, where she was widowed at the age of 34, with three children (me and two girls, the youngest being 4 years old).
In all of this, she was content. I never saw her complain or be grumpy; she would rejoice in the smallest of things. Our academic success and involvement with the church were the only causes of happiness in life. Over a few years, her father passed away, then her older brother, then my father (her husband), then her mother, and then her father-in-law (my paternal grandfather). When my older sister got married, my brother-in-law (her husband) passed away just a few weeks after the marriage. Furthermore, after several years, when my younger sister got married in 2008, she passed away after a long illness, leaving behind a husband, and a young son and daughter. My mother remained content with everything that life’s waves and storms brought her, even in her final years, which were spent battling many illnesses. She remained content and even cheerful. When I visited her on her deathbed just days before her passing, her gaze and contented smile hid all the pain or fatigue and expressed nothing but thanks and contentment. This is how she lived through the shocks of life, always content, with certainty that all things work for the good of those who love God, for she loved God very much.
The art of enjoying what is available is one of the life skills that many do not master. According to one’s view of life, one’s feelings toward God, the Pantocrator, are shaped. Some say that so-and-so has little luck or bad fortune, and even though these sayings may hold some truth, the real presence of true satisfaction in a person’s life, without passivity or laziness, is the key that opens the door to happiness and joy.
One day, a man knocked on the church door, carrying on his back a machine for sharpening knives–a manual machine he operates with his foot. I found the man calm, with grace evident on his face, carrying this machine and going from house to house offering his services to those in need. He performed his work with precision and calmness, not imposing a set price for his work, but accepting whatever the customer willingly offered with simplicity, ease, and with a smile and satisfaction. He did his job and left, but the spirit of satisfaction that showed in him never left my memory. Many years passed, and I forgot about this man amidst life events. After more than ten years, I met a young female doctor, her husband, and their child. As we got talking, I discovered that she was the daughter of that man with the knife-sharpening machine, and my memory of the first encounter with him came back. I sat with the doctor to get to know them better, and I learned that they were seven daughters of that content man, all of whom studied and graduated from medical school, and four of them got married. They all greatly admired their father and his humble profession, and they were very proud of him.
I strongly believe that “satisfaction” is the “loyal friend” in this life we live.
The more we fill our years with satisfaction, gratitude, and thankfulness, the more we feel the richness of our lives and existence, and the fulfillment of God’s purpose in us. When I reflect on life’s struggles, whether small or limited, or among individuals, or large-scale conflicts between nations, groups, and peoples, whether East or West, I find that the absence of the key to satisfaction is what ignites these struggles or disputes.
Some fight for money and to accumulate wealth, others struggle for power, position, and themselves. Some resist and defy for their own ego and selfishness. Measure yourself as such: the more a person is content with their life, the fewer the conflicts and troubles. The more peaceful the souls, and more successful the goals. As the saying goes, “Run, son of Adam, like the wild beasts, for your provision will not be withheld.”
The content person prays, thanking God the Pantocrator: for everything, concerning everything, and in everything. I have lived satisfaction, and I strongly believe in it. I know “that all things work together for good to those who love God” (Romans 8:28).
It is my loyal friend who has never left me…
Pope Tawadros II
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