Good Deed: The Web that binds us part 2
Earlier in the year, I connected my dad to the angel who ensured he had an education, thanks to Facebook. Some weeks after posting an answer on Quora, something told me to go to Facebook and check out the daughters timelines. One of them had actually posted pictures of Pastor Moon, asking that we all call him to cheer him up, as he was battling cancer. I told my dad, who insisted I ask for permission from one of the daughters, before he would call. My dad would call, and chat with the pastor for a while.
Pastor Moon's health got a boost, and he was extremely happy that Dad called him (Whoever said our health is not connected to our emotions lied). That was March.
This is June, and I came across another Facebook post from one of the daughters, requesting for prayers for Pastor Moon who was losing the battle against cancer, and might not even make it to his 59th wedding anniversary.
I took a snapshot of the post and sent it to my dad. He decided to go visit them. The ticket from Illinois to California was extremely expensive, he had a tight schedule, but he was determined to go. He did not even know where he would stay, but he was determined to, at least, see the man who's help had made him who he was today, even if it was for one last time.
Aunty Kathy, the daughter I had been chatting with on Facebook, was pensive: her dad could give up the ghost any minute; all they could offer my dad was the couch to sleep on; the nearest airport was 30 miles away, and there was no one to go pick him up. My dad still insisted.
Over the next two days, I struggled with installing Uber on his phone and setting it up (it is NOT easy teaching technology to someone over 60, believe me!), we checked for flights, the weather. And prayed.
God made it happen: my folks were able to get the money, my dad was able to get away from work, he booked his flight on time, Aunty Kathy's husband offered to pick him up at the airport, and paid for his hotel room for the two nights he stayed there. They took lots of pictures, called me via WhatsApp video call, and dad was able to see, hug, and talk to his hero.
I always wondered why dad would leave a career in banking, to go be a nurse, until I realized that Pastor Moon was a nurse, who trained thousands of nurses in Nigeria while he was around. His hero did it so well that he taught others, so of course he would.
Every time I remember, I just smile and get teary-eyed. The whole Moon family really appreciated the gesture. There was a lot of written letters, depicting gratitude. My dad was fulfilled. Thinking about him I am just happy I was able to help him achieve this, because he was too young when his biological father died, and he could not come home to Nigeria when his mother died. Being able to see this man that molded him at least one more time, meant the whole world to him.
Many people use technology everyday, for varied things. Staying in touch across borders and continents is one major use, but we must not use technology to override the ever-present need to hold on to, and reconnect with, the web that binds us all: love.
Pastor Moon's health got a boost, and he was extremely happy that Dad called him (Whoever said our health is not connected to our emotions lied). That was March.
This is June, and I came across another Facebook post from one of the daughters, requesting for prayers for Pastor Moon who was losing the battle against cancer, and might not even make it to his 59th wedding anniversary.
I took a snapshot of the post and sent it to my dad. He decided to go visit them. The ticket from Illinois to California was extremely expensive, he had a tight schedule, but he was determined to go. He did not even know where he would stay, but he was determined to, at least, see the man who's help had made him who he was today, even if it was for one last time.
Aunty Kathy, the daughter I had been chatting with on Facebook, was pensive: her dad could give up the ghost any minute; all they could offer my dad was the couch to sleep on; the nearest airport was 30 miles away, and there was no one to go pick him up. My dad still insisted.
Over the next two days, I struggled with installing Uber on his phone and setting it up (it is NOT easy teaching technology to someone over 60, believe me!), we checked for flights, the weather. And prayed.
God made it happen: my folks were able to get the money, my dad was able to get away from work, he booked his flight on time, Aunty Kathy's husband offered to pick him up at the airport, and paid for his hotel room for the two nights he stayed there. They took lots of pictures, called me via WhatsApp video call, and dad was able to see, hug, and talk to his hero.
I always wondered why dad would leave a career in banking, to go be a nurse, until I realized that Pastor Moon was a nurse, who trained thousands of nurses in Nigeria while he was around. His hero did it so well that he taught others, so of course he would.
Every time I remember, I just smile and get teary-eyed. The whole Moon family really appreciated the gesture. There was a lot of written letters, depicting gratitude. My dad was fulfilled. Thinking about him I am just happy I was able to help him achieve this, because he was too young when his biological father died, and he could not come home to Nigeria when his mother died. Being able to see this man that molded him at least one more time, meant the whole world to him.
Many people use technology everyday, for varied things. Staying in touch across borders and continents is one major use, but we must not use technology to override the ever-present need to hold on to, and reconnect with, the web that binds us all: love.
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