Even the smallest actions -- intentional or not -- can have a lasting impact. It goes beyond our personal perception.
Growing up in a small Dutch town back in the 70s to 90s meant starting work at an early age -- as early as 14. I was no different. Growing up, I had many jobs -- and it all started with my primary need to buy ice cream for a particular girl, wear Air Jordans, and enjoy weekends with friends.
At the age of 18 or 19, I took up the role of a night guard at an old folk’s home -- a place where older people lived out the final days of their lives. While working there, I had the opportunity to look at life through a different lens.
For the youth of today, I would love to share some anecdotes, shedding light on the importance of perception and infinite possibilities.
I tried to make the most of the time I spent there in the old folks' home. I observed -- people would walk around and reminisce about their past. The most exciting part for me was listening to history come alive; stories about life, love, and World War II.
I witnessed the stages of life and aging -- from the joy and pride of a new grandchild being born to the eerie feeling of residents passing away and families clearing out rooms.
However, looking from a brighter perspective, I felt a sense of satisfaction, for I knew that I provided security and accounted for a trusted and predictable part of the evening routines for residents and families. Family members who came to visit connected with me and were comforted by my presence. Maybe I felt like a breath of fresh air. In any case, I felt important, and I brought life to the place. All it took was just some music, a chat, and being in the moment.
From the years I worked at the old folk’s home, Mr Heidelmann, an old man in his late 80s left a mark on my life to date. During World War I, he was a small boy from Vienna, Austria, who had been transported out of the warzone to the Netherlands to be in foster care. He was never picked up or claimed after the first World War, and spent his adulthood during the Second World War in the Netherlands.
He would come to my desk at least two to three times per week to talk. There was one day when he asked if I could play billiards, and I could not. Since that evening, Mr Heidelmann taught me how to play billiards for about two years, and during that time we spoke a lot.
Needless to say, I got reminded of how bad I was at billiards in this “old people’s way,” every night. For some strange reason, I liked it; the grumpier he got, the bigger the smile on my face.
A few years passed by; I moved away for university. On an October evening, I got a call from my father, asking me to come home that Thursday. This was very unlike him; hence, I went. I saw my father waiting for me at the station, who then took me to a funeral in a big church in my hometown. He still hadn’t told me the reason for this sudden request for me to return, and I didn’t ask. We sat down.
I noticed a picture on the coffin -- it was Mr Heidelmann.
After the funeral service was over, my father and I lingered a bit. After a while, a gentleman walked up to us requesting a moment. When he looked at me, tears rolled down his face while he handed me a beautifully packed billiard cue. He was Mr Heidelimann’s son, and the cue belonged to my old billiard companion, who, apparently, wanted me to have it.
The gentleman and I spoke for a while when he told me how his father felt supported when we talked, and how it gave him so much so late in his life. And that was when I realized that my life and my actions have a much greater impact and go deeper than my own perception.
We all believe in limited possibilities, but in reality, there is so much more that goes beyond what we hope, feel, know, or believe in. Of course, in retrospect everything is finite, but prospectively there are infinite possibilities. I guess that’s what makes life hopeful. We are open to an infinite pool of choices, and all we need to do is learn to distinguish right from wrong.
We hear stories of war, injustice, racism, bias, and judgment, and all of these are present across all ages and societies. Mr Heidelmann felt it while living as an Austrian boy in a Dutch town. History has shown that all around the globe, biases are impacting, damaging, and scaring nations, religions, neighbours, friendships, and families. Often starting with decisions that might have felt right from one perspective. But the choices are not limited to that -- choices far more often bring positive consequences, some that we do not even know of.
I have an especially strong faith in humanity, not because of some billiard cue and my night shifts, but because there is so much good in the options of choices we have.
I hope that today’s youth are ready to pick up the flame of inspiration and continue towards goals to improve the world. They are expected to make decisions and take responsibility. I have had the honor to learn about Mr Heidelmann’s mysteries in life, apparently helping him without even realizing how much.
I am learning about my own mysteries in life, and I do wish for the youth to be open to everything, and not view life as a problem to solve, but as a reality to experience.
More importantly, always be prepared to be wrong. This gives confidence and opens up opportunities to come up with something original. Keep doing good, you might make a significant difference without even being aware. When you look back, you will see it.
Thomas Van Der Wielen is Director, International School Dhaka (ISD).
