“Kindness is the only strength there is.” Father Greg Boyle.

I met Fabian on the way.  I mean that literally.  For I was on my way to the airport. 

It was early Monday morning, and I was picking up Sandy, whose husband had died of Parkinson’s in November. She is an energetic and somewhat eccentric soul that has a personality that is much bigger than her five-foot frame.  But that is another story.  Sandy had spent Christmas and New Year’s with her daughter in Alaska, a welcome distraction from the cloud of grief and sadness that no doubt enveloped her in her own home.   I was early arriving at the airport, so I pulled into the cell phone waiting area which conveniently not only has a bathroom, but a Dunkin Donuts.  I REALLY wanted a donut (The Holiday sugar addiction is a very hard habit to break) but decided to restrain myself and just order a coffee. 

The place was empty, except for the middle-aged man working behind the counter.  As I approached, he greeted me with a friendly “good morning” and a kind smile.  That’s not so unusual, as a social greeting is expected from those in the vocation of serving others.   What WAS unusual is that his greeting was delivered with such a warm and welcoming spirit.  He seemed to be genuinely pleased to take my order and get me a simple cup of coffee, as if I had made his day! He had a positive energy that exuded a spirit of genuine joy, even over the small task of taking a coffee order for a complete stranger early on a Monday morning.

As I took the cup of steaming black java and headed toward a table, my curiosity couldn’t be contained.  What was it that made this affable man standing behind a counter at Dunkin Donuts tick? I had to know, so I returned to the counter and queried him, “Why is it that you seem so happy this early on a Monday morning?”  Without a pause he replied, “I’ve almost died five times in my life, so I consider each day a gift.”  His response caught me by surprise, and of course I wanted to find out the details.

“Five times? How?”  I asked.

“Well, the most recent was a quadruple heart bypass almost five years ago.  The doctor said I should be dead. I feel like every day since then is a gift.  Plus I love my wife of forty years, who I’ve known since high school and has stuck with me through some very tough times.  And of course there’s my family.  We get together as often as we can. They’re all such a blessing.”

“That’s so wonderful,” I said, “And what about the other four times you almost died?”

“They happened when I was much younger.  I tell people that I didn’t belong to a gang, I was the leader.”  He left me to use my imagination and fill in the details on what may have taken place.

“Wow, you’re kind of a living miracle”, I said.

“I guess you could say that.  Because of everything I’ve been through I try to help others.  I am the manager here, so I hire people that might not get a chance elsewhere, and provide not only the opportunity and training, but the encouragement for them to use this job as a way to improve themselves and their lives.” Impressive!

“I’m curious”, I said, “Do you have some kind of a spiritual belief that helps you with this?” 

“Yes, I have a church, and I believe that God spared my life so many times so that I could serve God by helping others.”

Here in front of me was a living example of what it means to carry out one’s calling in the most joyful, humble, and genuinely kind and unassuming manner imaginable.  Father Greg Boyle and his ministry to gang members in Los Angeles came to mind.

“Have you ever heard of Greg Boyle or read his book, ‘Tattoos on the Heart’?”  I asked.

“No, I’m not familiar with him”, Fabian replied. 

“Well, you remind me of him, and that’s a compliment”, I said.

I went back to my chair and replayed the encounter I’d just had and the impression that Fabian made on me, and so many people, either directly or indirectly, whether they realize it or not, on a daily basis.  And then I returned to the counter for the third time to tell him what an inspiration he was for me and how thankful I was that God had placed him in my path.  And of course, I mentioned this blog and asked if he would mind if I wrote about him.

I thought about Fabian numerous times throughout the week.  And not so ironically on Friday, at a luncheon at my office for volunteers, one of the people in attendance brought up the fact that she had lived in Quincy, Massachusetts, site of the first Dunkin Donuts store.  She told us about how much she loved Dunkin Donuts.  I hadn’t said anything about Fabian or my inspirational encounter at the start of the week. As I listened to her regale the glories of Dunkin Donuts and how much she appreciated them, I couldn’t help thinking, “I do too, Sarah, but for a much different reason.”