Daniel, the Maronite.

A writing exercise

Never underestimate the lives of old men sitting on park benches. They carry the memories of several lives past. Different personas of men all existing within a singular body traversing the road of life. Each one a different version of the other - better, maybe? No, just different.

Take, for instance, Daniel. Daniel spent most of his life in Southern California with his immigrant parents, who fled to America in search of refuge from the war in Lebanon. Their fair skin and light eyes deceived the unknowing passerby who wouldn't have guessed they carried heavy Middle Eastern accents wrought with years of anxiety and trauma from the sound of bombs blasting closer and closer each day. His family immigrated to the States when he was around ten years old. He barely remembered the green of the cedar trees, the sound of the marketplace waking up, slowly bustling with life in the early morning, and the one bedroom apartment where they lived. Daniel, a Maronite Christian, wore a solid gold cross around his neck. His gnarled fingers on his left hand would hold it tightly as he spoke animatedly with his right.

He stared at the lush green grass that extended in front of him. Flower buds popped through blades, with young couples strewn between, lying on blankets - some sleeping, reading side by side, or laughing in harmony. Daniel smiled to himself.

As a young man, Daniel stood tall, knelt in prayer frequently, and wore a constant smile. He smiled a lot. His mother thanked God often for this smiling boy - a blessing bestowed after many years of living in tears and fear - the joy of Christ.

"Aibni almubtasim,” she murmured to herself. "My smiling boy.”

Daniel spent most of his time at his local Maronite church. He absorbed all that he could for as long as he could. He often spoke to his picture of Mar Charbel. He kept it on his nightstand. It was to Mar Charbel that he professed his dreams and desires of a life with Christ. It was to Mar Charbel that he confessed his fears and anxieties of loneliness. It was to Mar Charbel that he asked for intercession. It was Mar Charbel who spoke back to him in prayers.

Daniel loved God, and he desired only Him. One day, as he lay in the grass, he encountered Rana. Rana also loved God and desired only Him. Rana sought to consecrate her life to Christ, and the day she literally tripped over Daniel, unbeknownst to her, lying in the grass, she had been on her way to her spiritual father, set to request his blessing for this consecration. The two became inseparable from that point forward. The two walked toward Christ with fervor and love in their hearts. The two served the poor of His people, the widow, the orphan, and the imprisoned. Their home was open to all in need. Their hearts expanded with love for each other and their neighbor with each passing day.

Daniel sat on the park bench and relived these moments in his heart. His Rana passed away a few years ago, but the gold cross she gifted him on their wedding day stayed close, his gnarled fingers gripping it tightly.