Complaints

"Geez, Vân, I just don't have much money anymore."
I looked at my mom quizzically.
It was her fifth time making the same comment within three days of my summer visit.
It was not like her to repeat herself so often.

I was thinking of her as I heard myself complaining of the heat at Marian Days.
Actually everyone was commenting (or complaining) about it.
Along with my friends and neighbors in Texas.

Our flowers and vegetables were barely surviving.
Now, we realize that Dallas almost broke the record for the longest 100-degree streak of consecutive days. It was 40 days this summer of 2011. It was 47 days in the summer of 1980.

"Vân, why are you laughing at me," my mom continued.
"Mom, I just realized why you don't have any money!" I chortled. "You just gave $200 to that nun from Vietnam because she said that she was raising funds for her community's work with orphans. And she told you it was difficult to do so because most parish priests are following diocesan's mandates and do not allow unapproved fund-raising efforts. And she did not know that before coming here to the US. On top of that, you gave her $40 for personal spending money. You give it all away. "

My mom looked at me in amazement as I continued with gusto.
"Then, you get a letter in the mail for a retirement home for priests. You send in $1000.00!"

"Well, I can't help it," my mom stuttered quietly.

I knew my my mom couldn't help it.
She didn't give me any money because I didn't need it.
Although I am a nun.

Then she sends in $100 to my community because she knew we were working with the native peoples in Vietnam.

"I can't help it. It is no use storing up riches in this world. It will all pass away," she stated simply. Then she broke into a robust laughter. "You're right. I am silly, aren't I?"

Our conversation broke into my memory as I felt a cool breeze lift a strand of hair from my cheeks. Trúc, my aspirant has been continuously fanning me for the past hour. This morning, Qùynh Dao, a new friend, had fanned me continuously for two hours. And yesterday, Thanh Thúy fanned me for two hours also. Come to think about it, there has always been someone in our Marian Days kiosk fanning the oppressive heat away from me.

During my summer visit, I had thought my mom was the one who was complaining.
Not true.
I was the one who was complaining.

I was aware of the heat.
And not aware of my what I was receiving: "angels" who were sending me cool breezes.

My mom was aware of the heat.
And well-aware of the joy she is receiving in her giving.

Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/rushing_mania/449262133/lightbox/