The Light of Karen
I knew Karen for a year and a half before I found out she was a
millionaire. Every Tuesday morning at 8:30, Karen would take her Yoga mat
and I would take mine. We would do Yoga postures and meditations and
during breaks we would talk. So I knew she made dresses, tried to sell
them to clothing stores, and somehow she was able to support her eight
year old daughter. I knew she had learned to be a tailor in India where
she had spent nine years until she got quite ill. She was so ill she
couldn't make dresses anymore so she flew back home.
When I met her she had just thrown up the tape worm which apparently
had caused her illness. Now, she was healthy again, raising her daughter
and trying to make a living making dresses. I knew she didn't have a car
but rode a bike, and there was something so simple about her, a quiet,
hidden strength and light. I loved when she opened up her Yoga mat beside
mine.
But two weeks ago, she didn't open her mat next to mine because she
didn't come to class and the week after she didn't open her mat either.
Our teacher told us she would never come again. When I asked why, the
teacher said, "Great upheavals in her life."
"Karen, what happened?" As soon as I could I called her.
She didn't want to tell me at first but then she sighed. "Seven years
ago, my grandfather died and wrote in his will: 'Every year on Karen's
birthday for the next fifteen years, she is to get 70,000 dollars. After
fifteen years, she is to get all my money. Upon my death she is also to
get my house which she can do whatever she pleases with.'"
"So you see, June, I was living quite well until the phone call came
last week from my bank manager telling me he just received a court order
to freeze all my assets. My father, brothers, sister and cousins decided
to contest the will. So I can't afford to study Yoga anymore. I don't have
the free time either. I have to make a lots and lots of dresses."
There was nothing choked up in her voice. It was me who was on the
verge of tears. "But Karen, how are you managing?
"God is with me, June. Every day I sell a dress, and we have food on
the table. It is hard, but it's a learning experience. Isn't that why we
are here on earth--to learn? Do we take anything with us to the grave?
"The only thing that made me sad is when daughter said, 'Mom, didn’t
life used to be more fun than it is now? How come, Mom?'
"I didn't tell her why. I don’t want her to have hate in her heart."
When I hung up the phone, I knew this woman was one of the righteous
upon whom the world stands.
