The time was about 9:45, and I was finishing some reading before going to sleep. Suddenly the front door buzzer went off with a sound that startles me every time even when I know someone is about to ring it. I went to the intercom and asked (okay, it was more like demanded) who was there. I heard a female voice saying "Venerable" but that was all I could hear above the static. I asked several more times who it was but the intercom is not one of the apartment’s better features and I finally decided that if someone was saying venerable, it had to be for me. (Even at 10PM, my mind is razor sharp. (Smiley with eyes rolling))
I pressed the button to open the door, opened my door to the inner lobby, and wondered who on earth was walking in the front door. Then I saw her. It was Clara who if you had asked me I would have said was about three hours west of me the other side of Chicago. But she wasn't there, she was here. Standing at my door. At 9:50 pm.
Ever the gracious hostess, I think I said something like “What are you doing here?” or “I didn't know you were coming!” (Clearly my mind isn't as razor sharp as I would like to imagine.)
Clara was holding a rolled-up sleeping bag and small overnight bag. I, on the other hand, had been in the middle of packing and there were packing boxes everywhere. After repeating my gracious (smiley with eyes rolling again) welcome, I asked her in.
I offered Clara some water, which was all I had to drink, and explained that I only had two eggs for breakfast. (There's my gracious-hostess self again.) She smiled and said she'd take me out to breakfast the following morning. I showed her into what had been my mother's bedroom and said she could spread her sleeping bag on the oriental carpet. (Okay. Looking back, this part wasn't so bad. It's a beautiful carpet and I had slept on it one night so I knew it was doable.) Then, I got some towels and put out some things in the guest bathroom for her.
During all this, we discovered what had happened. Or rather more like what hadn't happened.
Clara had emailed me a few weeks ago to say she might be in Indiana and asked if she could come to see me. I replied that she was very welcome. (Given enough notice, I can be polite!) Plus, the timing would be perfect for me because I had two boxes of books to go the Amitabha Buddhist Library in Chicago, which she attended, and needed a few CDs from the library's distribution supply.
Clara emailed back that everything was tentative and she'd get back to me. This is where "it" happened. Or rather didn't happen.
Clara continued to email me at the same email address she had been using and let me know that she had the CDs and would be coming to see me. She wrote a few more emails as well, but I never received them. She thought I was too busy to reply and didn't want to bother me so just went ahead with her plan to visit me. After all, if two emails went through why would the others not reach me. When she called me on Friday night, I had already turned off my phone for the evening.
You'll be glad to hear that we had a very good breakfast at Rachael's at the Goshen farmer's market Saturday morning. After we came back, Clara put the now four boxes of books in her car. She had asked how I was getting to Chicago on the 27th, and I had explained I was taking one train into Chicago and another to Naperville. She explained that she had another appointment in Indiana on Friday the 26th and would very much like to come to Elkhart and drive me to Chicago on the 27th.
Now you have to agree that this is a brave woman and a good Buddhist. She was not only volunteering to again come to my door on a Friday night, she was trying to convince me to accept her offer instead of taking the trains.
After she returned to Chicago, she emailed me saying I had been a very gracious hostess. She also wrote that when she realized that I was not expecting her, she had been prepared to return home that night, happy to have been able to give me the CDs and bring the books to the library for me.
The brave woman part is easy to see. If you haven't yet figured it out, let me help you. Ringing my doorbell at 10pm can be very risky! But why the good Buddhist? Clara was flexible. She adapted very quickly to a new situation and wasn't attached to her idea of what would happen. When it looked like the conditions weren’t right, she was happy that she had been able to help me. She didn't get upset or frustrated. She was all set to accord with the conditions. Ready to accord with the conditions, she remained calm and thoughtful.
As I said: a good Buddhist.