It was thursday, exactly one week after I wrote down that prayer for my writing career.
It was the last drink I made on that thursday, a Chai tea latte, and the first one on that day that a customer returned because something was not right with the drink.
“I think something is not right about this one.. It tastes… almost watery..”
A very sweet asian lady in her late 70’s was nicely explaining. She was short, had glasses on, and short curly hair like my mom, just like most typical elderly asian women do with their hair, and immediately, I felt drawn to her. I felt so comfortable with her even though she was not happy with the product that I have just sold her.
“I think I know what the problem is. You like it with no water in your Chai latte. Our standard recipe calls for some hot water to dilute the chai extract.”
“Oh, I see!”
While I was explaining, I already finished remaking the drink.
“Here. try this one, and let me know if you are still not satisfied!”
She smiled as she was picking up the latte. She took one careful sip of the latte, and I knew that the problem was resolved by the look on her face.
“I am so hooked on this drink!”
“I see that! You must do this drink a lot, because you immediately picked up the difference.”
We ended up walking out together to the parking lot, because I was just about to get off from work. During the short walk to our cars, we talked about so many things. She’s from Okinawa, Japan. Only 800 miles from Korean Peninsula. She moved here in 1950 with a big scholarship to New York City College. Before I was even born. You can tell she was a smart student in her young days, because the brilliance of her bright mind was still sparkling. I could literally pick up her active brain wavelength intuitively. Her mind was still sharp, as clear as it could be, with so much more space still left to absorb more information. She was the most inspirational 78 year old woman I have ever met.
I don’t know what triggered our conversation about writing, but somehow I was telling her about my writer dream. And she told me, with very strong, convincing voice:
“Don’t ever give up your dream! I finished my Phd only 2 years ago! I still teach at the college even though I am retired because I love teaching and I love interacting with young people! I signed up for a writing class at The Writer Center just last week, too! I am writing my memoir! You should sign up too!”
She was so enthusiastic, and I had not control over myself but to get sucked into her world of realizing dreams and dreaming big things without limit. For her, sky was the limit and to say that was an understatement.
So we exchanged our numbers, and said our good bye. Guess what the first thing I did when I got home? I went straight to The Writer Center nearby and started browsing their workshops.
Next morning, I packed up to leave for a week-long retreat. I am already about half way through with the retreat. Just a few more days of this prayerful rest, and then a new chapter will begin. I am readying myself for my first formal step toward my life-long dream of becoming a writer. And like that brilliant lady has told me a few days ago, I will never, never give up on my dream. No matter how long it might take to get there.