The Lady Who Wept At The Airport

(6-minute read) – Bird notes and rustling on the forest floor punctuated the silence. The sounds were gentle reminders of a forgotten Eden – a former paradise. Now most of the animals were wiped out and the rich diversity of plants was reduced to only the commercially viable one.

Humans protested about the animals. They protested about the loss of bio-diversity.

Lucky for the tall strong pine tree, it was a commercially viable variety. So, it lived. For now. Until the day came for it to be cut down so that its soft wood could be used to satisfy the gluttonous demands of a consumer society.

Morning air rustled through it on a familiar southerly breeze and seven birds rested on its branches.

The tree’s existence was about to change.

A human ripped a chord on a machine with violent teeth jutting out along the length of a chain. Fuel shot into the cylinder and ignited. Gentler punctuation marks gave way to the disturbing rasping roar of a diesel engine. It was a chain saw. A machine that, by its nature, is devastatingly destructive.

The thing gave the human inhumane power to cut down trees with mindless easy. It had to be so, or insatiable human demand would never be met.

The human brandished it about, knowing subconsciously what a violent weapon it was, nevertheless liking the heavy vibrating feel of it as he set about his day’s work with God-like power over what was the trees’ dominion. He was just the messenger doing his job. Human consumption is a far darker creature than a man with a chain saw.

Seven birds took flight as the diesel engine kicked in. Other creatures scurried away on the floor, seeking new cover, as the human and his chain saw approached the tall strong pine tree. The day had come for it to be cut down. It took only a short while for the heinous job to be done. Then air rustled through the needle leaves one last time on the great life’s descending arc to the floor.

The chain saw paused and silence returned. Until the next assault.

Some months later, some distance away, a lady joined a queue at boarding gate 2 at Lanseria airport on her way to Cape Town.

There was none of the forest’s silence here. It was a crowded place where most people couldn’t have given the time of day to their fellow travelers. The noise and the irritation of people too close and too busy were punctuated by public address announcements and jet engines outside.

A cleaner sat on a stool outside the men’s restroom. He was glad he would have this place to himself later after another day’s madness, because at least then he could think straight again. The noise and the rush made him feel frazzled, anxious and disconnected.

He saw the lady join the queue at gate 2.

When no one else noticed, he saw her eyes were puffy and red. He knew she’d been crying, but she seemed under control now. He watched as her phone beeped and the screen lit up. She read the message on its screen. It must be more of the sad good-byes, he thought, because her face swelled up like a ripe tomato and she was crying again.

The cleaner watched as she searched in her bag for something to wipe her eyes and nose. No luck. She sniffed and wiped under her eyes with the back of her hands, trying hard not to make a scene. She was doing a good job of it… none of the travelers around her seemed to notice her agony. But she wasn’t doing that good a job. They were just too blinkered on their own journeys through the airport.

She edged forward a few metres in the queue. She was close to him now. He stood up and walked over to her. He held out his hand. She looked up at him and he could see through her tears a look of bewilderment, as if this connection was a threat.

“Here,” he said and glanced down at his hand, inviting her to take what he had. She took it and blurted out, “Thank you” on the front of half a sob.

He went back to his stool.

Not another word was said between them as the queue moved her past him toward the boarding gate. She got on the plane and disappeared with all the rest of the rushing mob over the horizon in a haze of jet fumes. More planes came and went. The cleaner got his quiet time later and he recollected the day in peace.

He recalled the expression on the lady’s face. He had taken her completely by surprise. But she had been so relieved to see what was in his hand. It was just a single white tissue. But she really needed it. He had seen the red drain from her face and her shoulders relax as she wiped her eyes and nose with it.

He had not done anything special. Nothing too significant. So he thought.

But actually it was very significant.

It was significant because he passed her a symbol of his empathy. Uniquely human love had moved him outside of himself to connect with another. What he did soothed the other immeasurably.

There was something else significant about their exchange that morning. Neither the cleaner nor the lady who wept at the airport realised it.

They did not realise that he had passed her life. A small remnant of majestic life. Life that had been ended too soon months before, far away, by the ripping steel teeth of a chain saw. That single white tissue was not a meaningless product off the shelf of consumers’ paradise. It was previously living cells, converting the suns energy into life, functioning in a pine tree destined to be reduced to millions of tissues.

For a moment in time and space, the lady who wept at the airport, with a tree in her hand, joined with the crying of all humanity. The crying for our planet and for the negligent consumption of its gifts. Her sad goodbye brought on tears, but it wasn’t the root cause of her pain.

The cleaner was more accepting of goodbyes. He was more sensitive to others’ pain. When he cried, he was more conscious of the root cause of his sadness. He found relief in silence, in connection. Connection to nature and through it to all.

He made the stool he sat on at the airport every day from a dead tree he cut up with his own hands. It was hard work. He was focused, conscious and mindful of what nature had given up to him. Mindful – unlike the man wielding the chain saw and the people at the airport.