Years ago when my former partner was in a book club, she’d grumble
that they rarely talked about the book. Instead they would talk about their husbands,
kids, and daily lives while sipping wine and snacking on exotic-for-Idaho cheeses. She enjoyed the camaraderie but really wanted
to discuss characters and themes. Often she’d tell me about the books and we
would discuss. One of my favorite books that I’ve never read is “The Five People You Meet in Heaven.”
From Wikipedia, “The Five People You Meet in Heaven
is the story of Eddie, a wounded war veteran who lives what he believes is an
uninspired and lonely life fixing rides at a seaside amusement park. On his
83rd birthday, Eddie is killed while trying to save a little girl from a
falling ride. He awakes in the afterlife, where he learns that heaven is not a
location but a place in which your life is explained to you by five people who
were in, who affected, or were affected by, your life.”
The premise in the book is that they aren’t family members
or people in Eddie’s everyday life but rather people he encountered for a short
term. I love exploring this idea. Who
might my five people be?
The first person I think of is a former scholarship
administrator at Idaho State. I was a
fortunate rarity awarded enough scholarships to cover tuition, room and board.
My mom didn’t like her dorm experience at the University of Wisconsin, however,
and her accounts of cold showers, girl drama, and raucous parties led me to
turn down the room and board scholarship and live at home. That was one of the
worst decisions of my life.
I went from star athlete and big fish on the high school
campus to knowing no one and not involved in anything. I was removed from
student life and with mostly older males in my chemistry, physics, calculus and
engineering classes, I struggled to find a peer group. Near the end of that
semester, my mom found out I was gay, and my world turned further upside down. Her first words included “disgusted,
humiliated and embarrassed” and my home became an emotional minefield. I needed
refuge.
I was working at a department store, but couldn’t afford to
move out. My course load required copious time to study and I yearned for the traditional
social circles of a college student. My birthday and the holidays were on the horizon
and I wanted to be where I wasn’t surrounded by this unfamiliar shroud of
disappointment.
Since Mom saved every report card, award certificate and
scholarship letter and hadn’t thrown them away in a fit of rage (yet), I knew
exactly where to look. I dug up the room and board letter and called the lady
whose name was at the bottom. I stuttered through introducing myself, explained
that I had turned down the scholarship, and that I regretted not getting the
on-campus experience. I point blank asked if she would consider reinstating the
award. I don’t remember how the conversation went—if she said yes right away or
if she had to get back to me—but she reinstated my scholarship and I moved into
the dorms the second semester of my freshman year.
That scholarship required a 3.5 GPA, and with my first
semester turmoil, I only got a 3.2. I was placed on probation immediately and needed
straight A’s my second semester. Mid-way
through after getting a history test back with a “C”, I knew I wasn’t going to
make it. I left class crying and went right to the scholarship angel’s office
to thank her for giving me the opportunity. Without my asking, she offered
another round of probation if I took a summer class. I enrolled, got an “A” and
my GPA never dipped below a 3.5 after that.
The direction of my life changed dramatically because of
this woman’s compassion. I met lifelong friends in the dorms. I walked on the
volleyball team. I graduated with no student loan debt as the College of
Engineering’s Outstanding Student—all because of her simple kindness. I imagine
that the people we meet in heaven are the people we meet on earth who were
simply kind. I hope so.
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