Thomas

He was standing at the front of Utaliia Hotel, alert, polite and smiling. Wearing his perfectly pressed bellhop uniform with the dark blue cap cocked slightly to the side, he looked distinguished and professional. He was a short man, quiet and mild mannered. I stepped out of the van and wondered if he would remember me. I clumsily fumbled for the plastic bag and walked towards the entrance of the hotel. A slow smile emerged on his face. I knew then that he remembered me.

Raymond asked hastily: Do you remember us, we were here last year? He nodded and answered: “Of course I do.” We shook hands warmly. I opened the crumpled plastic bag and retrieved a small photo. “That’s me” he said, in a proud voice. Of course it was him, standing so seriously just as he was today wearing the same uniform with the gold buttons. Raymond and I are standing beside him and I have one arm around his shoulder.

Memories flashed back like the images of a cluttered power point, as last years’ events were present in my mind, coming alive by the second. In October 2010, I had been extremely ill having difficulty breathing, nausea and dizziness compounded by an excrutiating headache. Thomas had organized my move from the hotel to the hospital. He had acted quickly, pushing the old wheel chair close to my bed and had gently given me a warm blanket and had softly said: “I’m sorry madame, I’m so sorry.” His compassion and caring had touched me. Even in my terrible state of health, I felt the kindness of this Gentle Soul. Through my half-opened eyes, I had seen the worry on his face as the car had pulled away from the hotel.

Upon my return from the hospital after 4 drug-induced days, Thomas’ wide smile and shy demeanour welcomed me back at Utiliia Hotel. “Good to see you madame, good to see you,” Thomas had said in his quiet way. I had smiled at this genuine, caring man, remembering so well this gentleman. He was probably a father and had undoubtedly worked as a bell hop all his life. A great spirit leading a simple life. These thoughts were slowly moving through my convalescing mind and body as I reached the door to my room. The smell of exotic flowers, like brightly colored jewels welcomed me. Beside it was a basket spilling over with fragrant African fruits. It was a feast for the senses! Propped up between these generous gifts was a get-well card simply signed “the staff at Utiliia Hotel”.

A year ago, Thomas’ kindness had touched me, the kindness of a stranger, really a man just doing his job. I had come back to thank him, given him his picture and handed him a Canada baseball cap. It was a moment, a moment in time where two Beings connected.

We said goodbye. Raymond shook hands and I hugged him thanking him again for his kindness. As the car pulled out of the parking lot, Leah our GO2Africa Safari guide said: “he is a humble man”. Indeed he is, indeed he is I thought, unable to speak. She had captured in that simple word the essence of Thomas. Perhaps it was his kindness juxtaposed with the violence of malaria or perhaps it was the synchronicity of the universe that had sent me this African angel, but today’s visit was a life giving moment, a precious moment with a transcendental quality.