| MEANT TO BE by Sheldon F. Katz |
Still smiling, his mother took his hand, looked directly at him, and spoke in a straight forward manner, "Yes, meant to be." She paused for a moment and then continued, "Right now, you're hurt, you're disappointed." Greg started to interrupt, "Of course, I—" "Listen, my son, my dear son. Some day, somehow, you'll realize your mother is not a doddering old lady." "I never thought that." "But you'll find out that life is made up of meant to be's." She hugged her only son, kissed him on the forehead, and turned to go back to her desk to catch up on her correspondence. Stunned, he tried to regroup his thoughts. His world had just crashed in on him and all his mother could offer him was, "meant to be." Just turned 24 and just out of grad school, what a grind that was. Lots and lots of study, but at least he had graduated near the top of his class. He fully expected to be welcomed into the #2 accounting firm in the city, perhaps not a job he would love, but one that paid a really high salary. When he visited the firm's booth at the job fair on the university campus, he felt virtually assured of a position. Now what? Greg tore up the rejection letter and strode heavily out of the house to take a long walk to clear his head and contemplate his future. "Be back in time for dinner," his mother called to him. For the next hour, Greg defined the term, wandering aimlessly. Without realizing it, he had drifted out of his neighborhood and into a semi-residential area. He started to turn around when he noticed a cafe across the street. He crossed over. A cappuccino and a blueberry muffin, slightly warmed, might give him energy for thinking better through his situation. In the cafe, Greg searched for a table, but, deep in thought and not looking where he was going, he bumped into a table, almost spilling everything on it. "Oh, sorry, wasn't looking wh—" "No problem, no harm done." The young man at the table said, straightening out the tabletop, and as he glanced up, "Hey, hold on. Aren't you Greg?" Recognizing him, Greg answered, "Yeah. And you've got to be Chris. Elgin High School. Senior Year. Baseball team." "Right" Then together, "Elgin, Elgin, rah, rah, rah. Give a cheer, give a grin. We'll do our best, and we will win!" The two shared a big laugh and a welcoming hug. "Come on, sit down," said Chris. "Join me." "Thanks." And to the waiter approaching, "I'll take a cappuccino and a blueberry muffin. Uh, please warm the muffin." The waiter nodded, turned, and scurried off. Greg settled back in his chair, "Wow, six years. Six years, that's one quarter of a lifetime, so far." As they reminisced, Chris, related that after high school, he and his family moved cross country. When they had settled in, Chris enlisted in the army for two years and then attended a state university for his four year bachelor's degree. Greg, on the other hand, went directly from high school to a top ten university for his bachelor's degree, and continued on there for another two years for his master's. "What brought you back here?" asked Greg. Just then the waiter arrived with Greg's cappuccino and muffin. Chris flashed a big grin. "An old flame and an offer of good job. On both accounts, I'm a winner. I took the job, and the girl and I are engaged. We'll get married in about four months." For a moment there was an uneasy break in the conversation. Chris then asked, "And you, Greg, how are you doing?" Greg stared into his cup as he stirred the coffee. "You really want to know?" "Of course." Greg hesitated for a moment, and then, "Well, the old flame and I broke up over two years ago. Just as I was going to enter grad school." "Oh, sorry to hear that." With a wry smile, Greg continued, "That's life I guess. But then after all my years at the university—six years of studying—and studying hard; each time graduating near the top of my class, I was rejected by the one firm I really wanted to work for. I felt sure that firm would want me." Chris looked at Greg for a full minute and then said, "Well, maybe all that is meant to be." "Hold it," replied Greg, "I've heard that before, from my mom. It doesn't connect for me." Smiling, Chris asked, "Why not wait to see how everything plays out?" Greg came back with, "Plays out?" Then with a tinge of sarcasm, "Some master plan, huh? I don't believe in it. I believe in free will." "So do I," said Chris calmly, "but somehow, something, someone may guide us on our free will journey." "Yeah, sure." "Look, as I said, let's see how things play out." "Oh well, never mind." Greg felt it was time to change the subject, "How's everything on your end?" "Chris reflected for a moment, "In fact, everything is going great." "What do you mean?" "The job I mentioned? Well, I fell into a great job— totally unexpected." Greg cut in, "Making lots of money?" Chris laughed, "No, but I'm making a good living. Most important, I'm really enjoying it." When Greg wanted to know "doing what?", Chris told him that he was now the assistant director at a senior citizen center. This was an all inclusive center where the seniors could have their own apartments, while those who needed "assisted living" were assigned special rooms in the hospital. Further, the place had a great "rec" center, weekly shopping trips as well as monthly trips to interesting places. And as Chris put it, "Oh, so much more." "You can have it," Greg grunted. "I know," replied Chris, "and I do have it." Greg realized he was on shaky ground. "Look, forget my sarcasm. Really, it's great you have a job you enjoy, and also great, a girl who obviously loves you." "Meant to be," said Chris. Greg countered with, "Oh, please. Not that again." They both laughed and then when they finished their muffins and coffee, Chris asked, "How about another round of coffee?" "Good idea," Greg answered. As they waited, Chris grew pensive, and when the coffee arrived, he decided to make an offer to Greg. "Listen, you're not working right now and still looking. Right?" "Right." "Well, we have a position open at the moment—Director of Senior Activities. You could take it while you're job hunting. You'd be making some money and— wait, you could even earn a little extra helping in the accounting office." Greg thought about it. "Oh, I don't know..." "You know you have nothing to do now. This could be temporary, until you found a job more to your liking." "And you know you could sell used cars to the nomads in the desert." Greg smirked. Again, they both laughed, and Chris asked, "It's a deal then? You'll take the job?" "Only "til I get a real job." "Anything you say," replied Chris. "Look, let's finish our coffee, and then I'll take you to the center for an interview." "Okay." Greg hesitated a moment and said seriously, "Thank you. Chris, you're a good person." Then on an added thought, he asked, "If I need a resumè, can I use a computer there? I have my resumè stored under my hotmail.com account." "No problem." Both men finished their coffee. Greg joined Chris in his car for a ride to the center. At the center, Greg pulled up his resumè from the computer in Chris' office and printed it out. The interview itself turned out to be a short one. The center needed someone like Greg and Greg needed the job. It wasn't until he reached home that Greg started to wonder what in the world had he got himself into. Yet, deep inside, he knew he was not displeased about taking the position. When he broached the matter at the dinner table, his mother gave him an enigmatic smile and started to say, "meant—," but Chris cut her short, "Please. Don't start that again." For the rest of dinner, only small talk dominated. As they cleared away the dinner dishes, Greg's mother offered her congratulations on his new position, adding, "I know you'll like what you'll be doing." And so ended a most eventful day. To his own surprise, Greg fell into the routine of the position and quickly learned his duties. Indeed, within a short time, he arranged a community square dance and he stressed community. While most of the seniors could and would participate, he arranged for the wheelchair-bound group also to join in. He called a friend of his, who had coached wheelchair basketball games, to help those seniors do the square dance (although a bit modified) while in their wheelchairs. Additionally, he wanted as many as possible of the bedridden seniors, who could be wheeled into the room, to attend. To his good fortune, he discovered among the bedridden, two seniors who could play the harmonica, and another, who could fiddle a mean fiddle from her bed. The others would clap their hands and chant the directions. For this last group, he would need some extra assistance. A young woman who worked in the headquarters of the senior community answered his plea for help. Luckily, she knew all the ins and outs of square dancing and had worked with seniors before on other activities. This young woman was delighted, even eager, to volunteer her services. Thus, Greg met Laura. Greg told Laura what had to be done and she did it. Subsequent meetings produced conversations made up of much small talk and little else. Hardly romantic, perhaps, but behind the small talk they were beginning to notice each other. The evening of the event proved to be a smashing success. The wheelchair group, who usually came and just watched, did its wheel-chair-square-dance routine to hearty applause. The bed-bound group almost stole the show with its terrific contribution. All of the seniors gleefully devoured the refreshments selected by Greg with the help of Laura. What a fantastic evening! After all the seniors returned to their respective residences, and the staff cleaned up the rec room, Greg, on impulse, caught up with Laura, who was about to leave, and asked her to have coffee and a snack with him to celebrate. She hesitated, as she felt exhausted, but, also on impulse, she agreed, "Thanks. That would be really nice." At the cafe where Greg had met Chris, they quickly found a table. Greg asked Laura if she was hungry and if she would like to have dinner. She told him that she had filled up on the refreshments, "but thanks anyway, a snack would be just fine." Greg felt the same, so they both agreed on "coffee and Danish." Naturally the conversation turned to the seniors, the square dance, and the evening in general. If Greg had any reserve, it melted under Laura's warm smile and shining eyes. After a while, Laura asked, "Well, how do you feel?" "What do you mean?" Greg asked. "I mean, about the affair tonight. Do you feel this was a great achievement for you?" Greg laughed, "I don't know about a great achievement, but great satisfaction, yes." He thought about this for a minute and then continued, "Look, I'm not being noble or anything, just that I was able to put together an event everyone took part in and everyone enjoyed. At least, I think everyone did." Laura assured him not only did everyone enjoy the evening, but also they all made certain to thank him before they left. When Greg shrugged his shoulders, Laura asked, "And why not? Why shouldn't they thank you?" Laura reached over and touched his hand. "Greg, you were meant for the position—and, that position was meant for you to take." "Oh no, not again," groaned Greg, "not another meant to..." Laura cut in, "Yes, the position needed you—your caring—your know-how—your enthusiasm." Greg laughed a little self-consciously, "You're giving me a swell head. But don't forget, you and the others played major roles in pulling it all together. You especially." "Of course, under your supervision." Greg sensed it was time to change the subject, so he asked Laura to tell him more about what she did for work and for leisure time. She obliged, and the conversation drifted from her work and interests to Greg telling her about his family and education. Finally, Laura reluctantly declared she was "awfully tired and would like to go home." Equally reluctant to leave, Greg agreed to drive her home, which he did and then walked her to her door. There, the two held hands and smiled at each other. Greg made clear that he truly enjoyed being with her and wanted to see her again. Laura told him she felt the same way and would wait for his phone call. Metaphorically speaking, Greg floated back to his car. To say that he went home a happy person would be an understatement. He had most successfully pulled off a major project at the Center, and something inside him told him Laura could be THE ONE. By now, Greg had built a solid relationship with all the staff members in addition to an excellent rapport with the seniors. Each day he came to work with a touch more enthusiasm and left with a touch more satisfaction. As busy as he was, Greg made time to be with Laura for dinners, occasional lunches, movies, walks in the park, a concert or two. The evening that he brought Laura home to have dinner and to meet his mother earned high ratings for a super delicious dinner and a relaxed pleasant time for all. Greg's mother liked Laura immediately, and two of her comments to Greg were, "meant to be" and, with an impish grin, "she's too good for you." Soon afterward, Laura took Greg to her home to meet her parents—with equally successful results. A few days later, Greg popped the question to a radiantly smiling Laura. Greg almost didn't stop when he heard the faint sound of a car horn and saw what he thought was a broken guardrail on the other side of the road. He was in a hurry to meet his friend, Chris. At first, he thought nothing of it, but something tugged at his mind that he should take a look to see if an accident had occurred. He swung the car around and stopped at the break in the guardrail. Approaching the rail, he could see a car had crashed through it, and a driver slumped over the wheel. He immediately took out his cell phone and called 911 for the police and for an ambulance. While Greg at first considered not touching anything, just leave everything for the police and the medics, he decided he should check on the driver and maybe take him out of the car in case it caught fire. Just as he reached the car and started to open the door, he recognized the driver. It was his sweet Laura. She was dazed, semi-conscious, mumbling incoherently. Ever so carefully, Greg removed her from the car and placed her on the ground just beyond the guardrail. To protect Laura from the early evening chill, Greg took off his jacket and covered her as she lay quietly on the ground. In a matter of minutes, the ambulance and the police arrived, and the medics lost no time checking Laura and getting the stretcher for her. The medics were placing Laura on the stretcher, when she slowly opened her eyes, saw Greg, and said to him, "I knew you would find me—and help me." She closed her eyes and the medics strapped her onto the stretcher and carried her to the waiting ambulance. Greg told the police what he saw and what he did, and gave them his name and address in case they needed to contact him. He returned to his car and followed the ambulance to the hospital where he organized Laura's registration while the supervising doctor ordered immediate surgery preparation for Laura. The attending nurses allowed Greg to remain at Laura's side until they hit the doors of the "prep" room. The nurses paused the gurney at the door as Laura struggled to speak. Her eyes half opened and with a soft smile, she whispered, "I love you, Greg. Oh, so much. Like the line in the poem, I love thee to depth and breadth and height my soul can reach." Holding her hand tightly and bending over to look into her eyes, Greg told her, "I love you too. Deeply. Sincerely. Now rest, dearest." And to reassure her as best he could, "Everything will be okay. You're in good hands, really." A great calm came over Laura. With a peaceful smile, she said, "I know—I know. This was all meant to be." Her eyes closed, and the nurses took this as a signal to wheel her into the operating room. "Meant to be," Greg repeated it over and over, "meant to be." He just could not let go of that phrase, "meant to be." Maybe, just maybe, there was something to this phrase. It was almost midnight, when the nurse came out to tell Greg that after two hours of surgery and three in the recovery room, Laura was in good condition, awake, and wanted to see him. Greatly relieved, Greg followed the nurse to Laura's room and entered quietly to find her waiting for him. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaned over to give her a soft kiss. Laura had just enough strength to put her arm around his head and draw him closer for another, longer kiss. Laura leaned back on the pillows and told Greg she would be fine, but would have to stay in the hospital another two days for observation and full recovery. Greg was quiet for moment, then asked her how had she known he would find her? After all, she had no idea he was on his way to meet Chris for dinner. "Dear Greg, some things are meant to be," said Laura, "and I knew you were meant to find me." Before Greg could respond, she continued, "I'm not going to give you a lecture, but think about it. Suppose you had been accepted at that accounting firm, you would be in a job you didn't like even though you might be making a ton of money. You would not have met up with Chris, you would not have the job you really, really like and enjoy. And most important of all, for me—we would never have met." "Guess I have been struggling with these same thoughts while hanging on to my free will theory," said Greg. "Of course, there's free will. But sometimes, somehow, something, someone places a guiding finger on us to help direct the free will. I believe its God's hand on us; but whatever you believe, you believe. I'm not trying to force you to change your beliefs." Laura took Greg's hand and kissed him. "I love you so much." "I've heard what my mother says; I've listened to Chris; and I hear you clearly," said Greg. "You all have me thinking—thinking with my heart as well as my mind." Greg smiled. "Laura, listen to me. Tonight, I know that finding you was meant to be. I was on my way to meet Chris. I was going to tell him I changed my mind about you and me getting married at the City Courthouse. I wanted to ask him, and I will when I see him later today, that since he is an elder in the church, your church, to help arrange our wedding there." "After all," he paused to lean over and kiss Laura, "it was meant to be." |
Copyright by
Sheldon Katz