Thoughtfulness and Artistry

Imagine if you will, a youth group room. One of the youth leaders asks a teenager, "What's up?"

Without missing a beat, the teen responds, "The ceiling!"

People who know me well may assume I was the teen in question. They would be wrong. I was present, however. With a beaming smile, I gave my good friend Mio a high five and said, "I knew you were awesome!' I was another of the youth leaders, and I like to think I trained him well. (I can't say that for sure, however. It may have been a "Great minds think alike" moment.)

Mio

Steven Sauke, 2016

Adobe Illustrator

Back up a bit. In 2014 my grandpa visited Activate, our church's youth group, who also welcomed youth from other churches. He spoke of memories of going forward at a summer camp when he was 10. After his talk, we took a group picture, and our very talented main youth leader did something I never saw anyone else do over the course of my life. She managed to talk my dignified grandpa into making a goofy face in the middle of a crowd of teenagers for a picture.

As a pastor for many years before retiring, my grandpa had a heart for reaching youth. He loved and prayed for them. That evening endeared a 98-year-old man to a group of teens. They were present at what I believe was the last time he spoke before a group. He would write a letter to each of them a few months later.

As the weeks went on, Activate met weekly, and as a new leader, I got to know them. One evening a student by the name of Emilio, or Mio for short, came up to me and offered to draw a portrait of my grandpa. Mio usually carried a sketchbook, and also sometimes drew amazing artwork on the whiteboard, which never ceased to blow me away. I like to think of myself as an artist, but my drawing ability is nowhere near as good as his. He has an incredible talent. Anyway, a couple weeks later, Mio presented me with an amazing drawing:

I can't begin to express what his thoughtfulness meant to me, and to our entire family. My grandpa lived at an adult family home at the time, and I posted it on the wall of his room along with family pictures. I had to describe it to my grandpa, as he was nearly blind by this point, and I had to shout to be heard, to explain that this was drawn by Mio, one of the youth in Activate. I also told one of the nurses, in case my grandpa asked about it later. It was so tough to see my grandpa going through this.

Christmas of 2014, Activate celebrated with a white elephant gift exchange. As much as I love gift exchanges, I'm not a fan of the one where everyone gets a number. The first person opens a gift. The second person has a choice of claiming the first person's gift or opening a new one...and so on. Gifts can only be claimed from someone else once or twice, but as long as it's eligible to be claimed, the person who has it must let the other person take it, and may not reclaim it. I selected a gift and opened it to discover a calligraphy set. It was very cool and I was excited about it. Mio's turn was a few rounds later, and he walked up to me to claim it. I don't remember what I got instead, but what I do remember is that after the gift exchange was over, he came over and handed it back to me. I was so surprised and deeply moved. It was the last thing I expected.

In May of 2015, our family was gathered around my grandpa's bed when he took his final breath and was ushered into glory. Activate had planned to visit him, but he didn't make it to the scheduled date. The way Activate rallied around us and supported our family through that difficult time meant the world to us. At his memorial, I read my grandpa's eulogy. Mio was in attendance.

At one point, Mio invited me to a track meet at his high school. I felt honored to attend.

In 2016, I did the illustration at the top of this post of him, using a picture I took as the background.

In 2019, we met and caught up, and took a walk. It was great to see him again. We got some pictures:

Mio is a dear friend and brother in Christ. More than almost anyone I know, he exemplifies 1 Timothy 4:12: "Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity." Despite being about half my age now, he has challenged me to be a better person, to practice my art, and to be more thoughtful and generous toward others. I was one of his youth leaders, but I feel like he has taught me a lot more than I taught him.

The Two Seasons

Some of the most stunning natural beauty and the most violent weather I've ever encountered have been in the Philippines, where they only have two seasons: dry and rainy. The palm trees, the sunny beaches, the coral reefs, banana trees, and so much more, are breathtaking. Both seasons are necessary, and both have their drawbacks. 

The rain floods the rice fields, which is important in growing it. Tropical downpours are much stronger than anything I have encountered in the Seattle area, where I live now. It is like standing in the shower. At times, we had to deal with flooding. The wind can get very violent. We had some friends who lost their roof in a typhoon once. With the combination of rain and wind, we learned to move beds and anything else away from the windows when there was a typhoon in the forecast. Thunder can be loud and last a long time, and the lightning lights up the entire sky. The rain, wind and lightning are an awesome force, and are both amazing and terrifying. They can cause a lot of destruction.

But once the rainy season is over, the weather is a lot more calm. The sun beats down. The tropics shine, and the beauty is dazzling. But with my fair skin and red hair, I had to be very careful, as I also got some serious sunburns. The rice fields dried out and cracked. During the dry season, they looked like a desert.

Both seasons are warm year round, as the Philippines is just north of the equator, but it gets a lot hotter during the dry season. We were shivering when it dipped down into the 70s.

I wrote this sonnet in high school as part of an assignment in English class.

travnikovstudio/Adobe Stock

The sun is shining bright

Over the beautiful land of the Philippines
It is such a sight
With an array of gorgeous scenes.
The sea is sparkling light
And the beach cannot compare
While the birds in their soft flight
Soar on the wings of the air.

Rainy Season is here.
The rain falls in torrents
Lightning strikes and thunder claps, causing fear,
And making the little birds tense.
In five months, the rainy season will be over and done
The Philippines will once more know the sun.

Michael/Adobe Stock

icemanphotos/Adobe Stock

Kindness in a Bookstore

It's the age-old question. Well, one of the many. You find the treasures in the store that you can't live without (figuratively speaking, of course), get up to the counter, and discover...how are you going to pay for everything?

That was the issue I faced one day while shopping at my favorite Christian bookstore at our local mall. I had cash with me, but when I got everything up to the counter, they totaled it up...and it was more than I could pay right then. What would I have to eliminate? There was a line behind me, so I had to decide quickly! So I decided I didn't need that really cool t-shirt I wanted. Maybe I could buy it next time. 

Kraken Images/Adobe Stock

I was disappointed that I wouldn't be able to get it at that time, but it wasn't a huge deal. Just as I had resigned myself to having to forego buying it, the man behind me in line said, "I can pay for that." 

Once I got over my shock, I asked him the first thing that came to mind: "Will I need to pay you back?" I wasn't sure how I would do so as I didn't know him (and that was before I got my first cell phone), but I felt I had to ask. He assured me I would not need to pay him back.

So it was that I left the store with everything I had been planning to buy, and the kindness of a stranger to thank for it! I never did find out his name, and even if I had, I doubt I'd remember it now, but that small deed was a major encouragement for a teenager.

You never know what impact a simple act of kindness will have to encourage and inspire people. That man taught me that, and continues to inspire me.

Ah, the Joys of Homework!

I wrote this March 19, 1995 as part of an assignment in high school. I didn't always enjoy doing homework, but when I did, it looked something like this. Mrs. Best was my English teacher (mentioned in the poem). The French lines say, "Mrs. Best is funny, isn't she? / Homework."

Photo by motortion/Adobe Stock

Homework.
It is a compound word
Homework.
Is it absurd?
Homework.
Maybe absurd, but it is important.
Homework.
Its synonym is stress.
Homework.
Sometimes it is fun.
Homework.
Sometimes it is not.
Homework.
When will it be done?
Homework.
Am I having fun yet?
Homework.
Hey, this is neat.
Homework.
Wow!
Homework.
What is the square root of 6, divided by 35 to the eighteenth power, times the cosine of nine?
Homework.
Who was America’s fifteenth president?
Homework.
Spelled H-O-M-E-W-O-R-K
Homework.
This poem is homework
Homework.
Computers are awesome!
Homework.
Mme Best est drôle, n’est-ce pas?
Les devoirs.
What a blast!
Homework.
What?
Did you say vacation is next week?
Vacation?
Yea! No homework next week!
But after vacation,
Homework.
AH, THE JOYS OF . . .
Homework.

A Lesson in Kindness

1995. The combined youth groups from several churches in the Seattle area took the train from Seattle to San Diego, spent the night in Chula Vista, California, and then continued south to Tijuana, Mexico, where we worked with communities in the area. We were working with an organization called YUGO (Youth Unlimited Gospel Outreach), which facilitates youth missions trips in Mexico, both to serve the communities in that area and to equip American youth for ministry. It was an amazing week. After that week was done, we headed north a bit to unwind at Disneyland. I spent the day with my friend Dan, and we had a blast.

Photo taken at California Adventure
20 years later, in 2015

That evening, we had just left the park when we met a man from a local Baptist church, who was raising funds for his church's women's ministry. As we felt that was a good cause, we both contributed. The gentleman commented that this was (understandably) very awkward for him, and he had gone out searching for two reasons: His wife had convinced him, and he felt God's leading that there was something important that he needed to do. I believe we found out what that was.

Dan and I continued on toward the hotel. As it was late and we hadn't eaten, but most restaurants were closed at that time, we stopped at the local 7-Eleven to get something to eat. As we were leaving, a homeless man stopped us and asked for money for food. This was a bit more of a quandary for us. I grew up in the Philippines, where many of the beggars are in syndicates where they have to take their collections back to someone in charge, so giving money doesn't help (or anyway, that's how it was in the 80s). In the Philippines, we learned to give them food instead (we kept some in the car for that purpose). There are also a lot of homeless in Seattle. I have never quite known how to help, as I don't know what they will do with the money if I give it to them. At times it has been very clear to me that they were not intending to use it for the stated purpose. Other times it has been less clear. Sometimes I do give them money. But they very clearly need help. Dan and I were not sure what to do, and as we were trying to figure it out, the gentleman we had met earlier found us. He joined the conversation. Obviously he wasn't about to ask the homeless man to contribute, but he could also see our situation. That man then did something I will never forget, and which I believe was the reason he felt God's prodding to go out in the middle of the night. He told the homeless man, "I can't give you money, but I can take you in to get some food." He then took the man in to 7-Eleven, where he got him something to eat. Dan and I returned to the hotel, thankful and having learned an important lesson.

A couple years later, I was in downtown Seattle, where a man along the side of the road stopped me and asked for some money for food. I thought back to the lesson I had learned in Anaheim, and I asked him what he would like to eat. I went to a nearby convenience store that had some fried chicken (his request), and I selected the biggest piece I could see, and brought it out to him.

An Understatement

I wrote this poem February 10, 2007 in response to a sermon by our pastor on God's holiness, from 1 Peter 1.

NASA/Hubble

Awesome

Amazing
Wondrous
Wonderful
Powerful
Terrifying
They don’t even come close!

Loving
Caring
Dazzling
Holy
Wise
Just
Merciful
Our words hardly scratch the surface
of what God is.

What words can describe
God’s wondrous love for us?
How can we begin to express
His awesome holiness?

No words can adequately tell
His amazing care and mercy
That an omnipotent God would deign
To save a poor lowly sinner like me!

His power knows no bounds
Yet His love has no end
His holiness goes beyond anything
That I could even begin to imagine!
His wisdom is so much greater
Than man’s most brilliant breakthroughs
His justice fairer and more terrifying than any can fathom
His mercy and peace far beyond than all comprehension

I can do nothing before such a wonderful, terrible, awesome God
But fall down at His feet
And cry “Holy! Holy! Holy!”

His brilliance goes beyond
All the blinding starry host
Who am I that the dazzling God of the universe
Would gaze at the darkness of my soul
And shine His radiant light of forgiveness
On my unworthy blackened heart?

All of my days I will praise His wonderful name.
As the moon shines the light of the sun,
O holy God,
May my life shine Your love and holiness
On a world in need of Your grace!

Meeting a Legend

Her story is inspirational. She aspired to be an airline captain from a young age, at a time when that was an occupation reserved for men. She pursued her dream, rising from pilot to flight engineer, and eventually became American Airlines' first female captain in 1986. On September 11, 2001, she was flying from Paris to Dallas when she heard on the air-to-air frequency that the Twin Towers had been hit, and New York airspace was closed, followed shortly thereafter with airspace across the country. She was ordered to land in Gander, Newfoundland, where she experienced hospitality that amazed her. Her story is told in the musical Come from Away, and I interviewed her over the internet in 2018 for a blog post for All Things Broadway. In later blog posts (here and here), I told about when the national tour opened in Seattle and I got to meet several people whose stories were included in the musical. Kevin Tuerff invited me to attend an exclusive viewing of the documentary You Are Here: A Come From Away Story, where I met him, Nick and Diane Marson, Beulah Cooper, Bonnie Harris, Kevin Jung, Oz Fudge and others. Though she couldn't make it to the viewing, I met Diane Davis a couple weeks later after attending the musical for the third time. What I did not mention in those blog posts, because it hadn't happened yet, was meeting Beverley Bass. She also couldn't make it to the viewing for the documentary because she had needed to leave earlier in the day.

In 2019, Captain Beverley Bass released her children's book Me and the Sky. I promptly ordered it on Amazon. I also found out she was coming to Seattle! Since I had interviewed her previously and greatly admired her, I sent her a message to see if I could meet her. We arranged an appointment to meet at her hotel near Boeing Field in South Seattle. As I had ordered her book online, I was a little worried it wouldn't arrive on time, but it arrived the day of the appointment, before I left! I had also recently obtained the companion book to the musical, Come from Away: Welcome to the Rock: An Inside Look at the Hit Musical, which had also just come out. With both books, I made the trek south to meet one of my heroes!

We met in the lobby and she gave me a big hug. We went to the hotel café, where she bought me coffee (she rocks!), and we talked. I don't recall a lot about the conversation (I didn't take notes, as it wasn't an interview :-) ), but the meeting was very memorable. She hadn't seen the companion book yet, so she excitedly leafed through my copy. Neither of us had a Sharpie handy, so she borrowed one from the hotel and signed both books. (Unfortunately, I'm not sure why, but the ink faded quickly. Does anyone know if it's possible to restore faded Sharpie ink?)

It was a day I will never forget, when I met a legend who made history. I felt honored that she took time to hug, to talk with me, and even buy me coffee!

Walking with Grandpa

I wrote this poem in November 2005 in honor of my grandpa's 90th birthday a couple months earlier. As we lost him nearly ten years later, I added a verse today, and also changed the fourth verse from the present tense to the past tense.

Early 80s

Grandpa was a prolific walker. He walked daily, and it was partly due to that practice that he lived so long, nearly making it to 100 (only four months short of it). He challenged us to do the same, and he typed up his walking philosophy for us. I have been working on doing that more lately.

Grandpa's Walking Philosophy

Some of my best memories of Grandpa were walking and running with him. When they visited us in the Philippines in the early 80s, he and I walked from our house to our school. It wasn't all that far, but it was a fair distance, part of that uphill. It's one of my earliest memories. A few years later, we were back in the US and he, my dad, my brother and I went to see the Seattle Sonics play the Golden State Warriors in Seattle. During the game it started pouring, and when it got out, we had to run through it to the car! We were soaked to the bone. In 1994, we went as a family to Hong Kong to teach English to students preparing for a major exam. When we were all together walking through the streets of Kowloon, the rest of us practically had to run to keep up with him, as he was a very fast walker!

He was a World War 2 veteran, and he raised a family of five children on a very tight budget. He pastored at multiple churches, and his legacy lives on around the world. He was my hero.

On we walked
My grandpa and me
Under the brilliant Philippine sun
We were walking to school
An excited little boy and his loving grandfather

On we ran
My grandpa, dad, brother and me
Under an unusually strong Seattle rain
Down the sidewalk from the basketball arena
We piled into the car, soaked.

On Grandpa walked
As we tried to keep up
Through the busy streets of Hong Kong
Grandpa at his normal walking pace
And us younger folks nearly running

On Grandpa walked
Around the block, around the mall, and through life
Leading the way, shining his light
A brilliant example of a life well lived
For his children and for God

On Grandpa dances
On the brilliant streets of gold
In the arms of his beautiful bride and his glorious Savior
His race has been run and he has heard "Well done!"
A hero for the ages

Christmas 2014
Grandpa's 100th and last Christmas
He would graduate to heaven the following May

My college graduation, 2000

The Purple Lady

It was 1986. We were living in the Seattle area at the time, and a travel group my grandparents were involved with did a trip up north to Vancouver, BC, Canada, to attend Expo '86. Seattle held the World's Fair in 1962 (before my time), and we have the Space Needle as a memory of it. Now it was Vancouver's turn. Being that I was 8 at the time (I turned 9 later that year), I only have a few memories of it. One was the sculpture of cars in the sidewalk. Another was when my glasses fell off and shattered. (Thankfully, I had a spare pair back at the hotel!) They had pavilions (the fair, not my glasses). There was a building shaped like a globe (which is still there, picture at the bottom of this post). 

Another memory I have is The Purple Lady.

As I remember it, we encountered her in the crowd. She was dressed entirely in purple. She had a purple purse and purple hair. I seem to recall her wearing a purple hat as well. As we were right next to each other, we got talking. She was very friendly. I don't remember the specifics of our conversation, though I do remember discussing the plethora of purple (even if I don't think I knew the word "plethora" at the time). She gave me a purple business card with her name and the title "The Purple Lady." (I had the card for years, but don't know where it is now, or if I still have it.) I love how she marched to the beat of her own drum. She stood out from the crowd, and she didn't care. That child-like attitude still inspires me.

A few minutes ago, in preparation for writing this blog, I googled "Purple Lady" and discovered some videos about one! She is around 80 now, which would have put her in her early 40s in 1986... I seem to recall the Purple Lady I met looking like she was in her 70s at the time, but as I was 8, my perception may have been a bit off. I don't know if this is the same Purple Lady, but Sandra Ramos lives in a purple hut in New Jersey, with a purple car, a purple bike, and just about everything else in purple. That's a long way from Vancouver, of course, but as it was the World's Fair (opened by Prince Charles and Princess Diana), there were visitors from all over the world. Maybe? Over the past decades, she has been an activist for battered women and homelessness, advocating for peace, and more, and is also very in tune with nature and making the world a better place. I think there's a lot we can learn from her (possibly two women, but maybe the same person) about going through life with a child-like (which is very different from childish) and purposeful attitude, with a determination to better everyone and everything around us.

Following are a couple videos about Sandra Ramos, The Purple Lady, one from four years ago, and the other from last year:

Expo '86
Science World/Getty Images

The Carabao and the Storm

...or "Steven Channels His Inner Aesop"... I wrote the following poem March 29, 1995 as part of an assignment in a high school English class. This part of the assignment was to write a poetic fable. 

A carabao, also known as a water buffalo, is a bovine that is used in several Southeast Asian cultures to assist in planting rice and other farming tasks, similar to an ox in other cultures. It is pronounced "care a bow" and rhymes with cow. They are are a common sight in the Philippines, and I remember going to sleep at times to the dulcet tones of local carabao and cats having spirited conversations. ("Moooooo!" "MEOW!" "Mooooo!" "MEOW!!" They were clearly conversations, as they alternated, and I never heard them speaking at the same time.)

Philippine Carabao

Photo by Cabajar

CC BY-SA 3.0 license

Off in the distance...
Ru-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-mbl-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-l-e!
Thunder!
Everybody ran
Away from the flooded rice paddies
Except for one carabao
Who said, "Silly carabaos!
What chickens!
I’m staying here!
There’s work to do!
My master will be proud of me!
But who will reward those cowardly carabao?
Not me, I’m brave!
Why, I’m the bravest carabao of the lot!
Aren’t I grea----"
ZAP!
RU-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-MBL-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-E!
Next morning, all of the carabaos returned
To find a dead carabao
Lying in the slop.

Moral:
"Pride goes before destruction,
     a haughty spirit before a fall." (Proverbs 16:18)