Lavendar trail

"I was a street kid raised in the inner city. By the time I was ten, I was a savvy customer, and no one could tell me what to do. I got what I wanted by hook or by crook, including a car by the time I was fifteen. One night, I crashed the car--it doesn't matter how--and wound up in the hospital. There were enough brothers and sisters at home that my mother couldn't come to see me exceptan hour a day, and my father only made it after work."

"Being stuck in a hospital bed when you're a teenager is torture. With nothing to do, I became curious about the old woman in the next bed. She was gaunt with illness, and although I knew she must be dying, I wasn't afraid.  Death had no meaning at my age, anyway. Whenever visitors came, they always drew the curtain around her bed, so all I could hear were murmurings. But I'd never seen such a genteel old lady. She sprinkled lavendar water on her hands every morning, and if she knew a visitor was coming, she did her hair and had a nurse prop her upright in bed."

"She never asked me about myself, and since I was only going to be there for two days, I didn't go out of my way to get to know her. She just struck me as quiet and peaceful for somebody who might not live out the week."

"The night before I was going home, I couldn't sleep. The nurse had given me a pill, but I'd flushed it down the toilet. All I wanted to do was get back on the street the minute they'd let me. I dozed off until about two in the morning, only to wake up with a start.  The room was dark, but I saw the old lady standing over me. I would've screamed if I hadn't recognized it was her.  She hadn't been able to get out of bed the whole time, but there she was, looking down at me without a word."

"I asked her if I could help her get to the bathroom or something. She shook her head. It was spooky, so I asked her what she was doing. She said, 'If you're not careful, you'll destroy yourself.' Her voice was clear and strong; that alone would've freaked me out. I didn't know what to say, so I told her to go back to bed. 'Not until we do a little rearranging,' she said, which doubly freaked me."

"I couldn't find the nuse's button in the dark, so I lay there she wasn't crazy enough to hurt me.  In fact, she didn't do a thing. After a moment, she turned away and went back (I assume) to bed. When I left the next morning, she was still asleep. Unpacking my bag at home, I found a small envelope. Inside was a note that smelled of lavendar. It said, I will be dead when you read this note. Forgive me for disturbing you--a mother should never frighten her children.

"That note changed my life. I called the hospital, and in fact, the old lady had passed away (according to records) an hour after I checked out."

"Why did this happen to me? I can't do the cosmic math that brought me into contact with Miss Sophia at that moment. It was just my time, and in her dying moment, she knew it...Everyone has to stumble into their own awakening."

Excerpt is from The Daughters of Joy: An Adventure of the Heart by Deepak Chopra