My Country's Father

More than Meeting and Greeting!

Coming to Care About Who and Where...

Today I took my son to his physical therapy appointment. The normally hustling and bustling office was silent. Most of the clients for the day had called in sick.. I greeted Gurcan as usual, in Turkish his native language. When James arrives he must have heat packs to warm his muscles for stretches, so the first ten minutes he is confined to a bed. Gurcan is propped on a large stretching station waiting. I told him that I had a test today about his native homeland, and the realm near by known as "NASWA", or North Africa and Western Asia. He asked me what I knew about Turkey. I told him that I knew that "Ataturk" was Mustafa Kamel. He told me about Kamel was named by another man for his wisdom, and how the people wanted him to be a king, but Kamel wanted only to be a citizen. He also told me how they gave women voting rights early on, and that people had to have last names when the new government came about. For many years people were simply the son or daughter of the parent. Much like the days of Biblical writing when Jesus was "Jesus, son of Joseph" Gurcan is nice to begin with, but as he was speaking his eyes were telling me he was somewhere in history, and that this is very important to him that I understand his history.

At this point James tells him that his back is too warm under the heat packs. Gurcan tells him : "Oh my, I guess you are cooked!" and begins his deep muscle kneading. I asked him about how he came to America. He tells me that he came with another friend, 20 years ago. He and his wife both. His friend did not stay. The more he shares, the more I can sense the Holy Spirit building, I cannot explain, but there is some kind of deeper understanding happening in this moment. I can tell that many people don't ask him, about "him." How often people assume that all medical professionals are machines. There to do a job, but not to know in person. I was so happy to have this little piece of Turkish history, and a connection to someone who really loves his patients. This is obvious to me when a little boy that he has seen since babydom, comes bursting in an asks how he is. With smiling eyes, Gurcan tells me how much he cares about that kid, and how long he has watched him grow. When his mom, a friend of mine from school days comes to get him, you can see he is sad to leave his "grown up friend".

When James first saw Gurcan two years ago, his appointments were in the morning. So I simply learned to say "Gunydan" or good morning, and "Nasilsinih" (these are not proper spellings of the exact words) Nasilsinih means "how are you?" Now James appointments are in the afternoon, and he is older so he also is learning to greet. After Gurcan shared with me his testimony, I can see something that is nearly bursting in the air. It is the crackle of knowing how important someone has just become to another. I told Gurcan about my gift of languages, and that I would stand on my head to learn Turkish. He offered me books and anything I needed to really learn this language.

I imagine that this is the foot path to peace. Two people as different as can be have a connection. I am a very generously built white female who is maybe 15 years younger than this very tall "fit as a fiddle" man who is tan always..and much wiser than I. We both know something about each other that matters, I know he will teach, he knows I will learn. These are the things that build blocks in the kingdom. I will never for get the smile on his face when he told me "My Country's Father...."