-Remembering Arthur Leiper
The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other’s life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof.
― Richard Bach, Illusions
In so many ways I have been blessed with a wonderful and supportive family. Both in terms of material needs as well as emotional support, my family, though not without faults, is top notch. In fact the only thing that I was denied with regard to family was grandparents as all four of them had passed away before my first birthday.
There are many things that parents can teach their children, but there are some things that only a family member that is a generation removed can offer. They have a wisdom that can only be garnered by many years of experience and even at a young age, I knew that for all the blessings my family had to bestow, I still felt cheated by not having even one grandparent to whom I could turn. It was not until I met Arthur Leiper that I knew what it felt like to have a grandfather.
When I was in the sixth grade, I was forced to repeat a year of school and this resulted in my also having to repeat a year of CCD, the Roman Catholic equivalent of Sunday school. A curse, or so it seemed. In many ways that was one of the hardest years of my young life. The loss of friends, feelings of failure and the belief that I was stupid all contributed to a number of self-destructive behaviors. But I believe that no pain or hardship, is placed at our feet without the support to overcome that challenge. I didn’t learn much about Jesus, the Bible, or the sacraments in CCD, but I was given two invaluable pearls of wisdom that were far more important.
The first was that the angels God sends to us in times of need are not always cloaked in white robes. In fact, most often they are ordinary people who stop long enough to take notice when you are in need. This was the case when I met Arthur Leiper, my CCD teacher. For whatever reason, he saw something in me that few others could. He took a liking to me and always seemed to see my potential even when I couldn’t see it in myself.
When I was in school for social work, I read a study in which highly successful and well adjusted adults who had experienced extreme abuse as children were surveyed. The researchers were trying to find out what these people had in common that allowed them to transcend the brutality of their pasts when so few others are able to. Although all of their stories were quite different, they all had one very important thing in common. All of them could identify at least one adult in their childhood who believed in them and who looked out for them. That adult, be it a family member, teacher, priest or rabbi, was an anchor of sorts and allowed the the child to weather the storm and ultimately flourish as an adult. Although my childhood was not traumatic when compared to the experiences of many, Arthur Leiper was my anchor during one of the most difficult times in my life.
Arthur also taught me my first mantra. Typically, a mantra is a sacred word in an ancient language that is repeated over and over to keep guiding the mind back to its spiritual center. His mantra was far more simple than that, however. Over and over again he would say, “It goes against the grain!” It didn’t matter what Christian principle he was trying to teach. He always reminded us that to practice the teaching of Jesus was difficult because it was not in our nature to do so. Whether turning the other cheek, caring for the needy, practicing forgiveness or putting the needs of others ahead of one’s own selfish desires, he always reminded us that to do these things was often trying but that we had the power to choose. Over the years, I have found myself in moral quandaries or struggling to be a compassionate and mindful yoga teacher and Art’s mantra has echoed in my head.
A few months ago, Arthur learned that he had Leukemia. Unfortunately none of the available treatments were effective and he passed away earlier this week. I learned the news via an email from my sister-in-law while still in Rishikesh, India. At first I was in shock and being so far away from my family, I was having trouble finding a way to honor his passing. Had I been in the USA, I would certainly have attended a Catholic Mass, but since Catholic churches are rare in India, I felt like a tiny boat lost at sea. I wasn’t sure how to grieve.
Arthur was more than just a CCD teacher to me. After the school year ended, we maintained a friendship. It was Arthur who taught me to navigate the subway system in Boston and ultimately became my sponsor when I received the Catholic sacrament of Confirmation. One summer, while I was a camp counselor in Maine, he and my brother drove up to surprise me and arrived on the day I was feeling most homesick.
Art gave me my first lessons in public speaking, loaned me the money for my first yoga teacher training and came to visit me while I was at the ashram so I would not be alone for Thanksgiving, he even managed to bring my father along for the ride which was nothing short of a miracle. Although he didn’t always understand my ways, he never failed to support me. It didn’t matter that I was a yoga teacher rather than a Catholic priest or that I dated boys instead of girls. It didn’t matter to him that I lived on the West coast and rarely got to see him. He was always there with his characteristic crooked smile, and quirky laugh.
His friendship extended to the rest of my family as well and was very supportive of my parents when then divorced. In recent years he and his wife Mary regularly joined our family for holiday meals.
In addition to his family, Art loved two things in this world The first was his Catholic faith and the second was trains. He loved to take trains anywhere and everywhere. He built model trains by hand and had many of the Amtrak lines and schedules committed to memory.
Given that I felt so removed from my family, and I couldn’t find a Catholic church at which to honor him, I felt as though I were letting him down. But fate has an interesting way of giving us what we need. As I write this I’m in a train chugging through India with tears pouring down my face. It doesn’t seem to matter that I’m surrounded by a bunch of Indians who clearly think I have lost my mind because this is the perfect place to reflect on blessing of having known Arthur Lieper.
It is because of him, that I am here today—that I get to travel to far off countries and to teach yoga. It is because of him that I was able to find my way around the very congested Haridwar train station this morning and it is because of him that I occasionally make the right choices in life even when “it goes against the grain” to do so.
Life won’t be the same without Arthur, but I do know that he will be with me each time I ride a train or reflect on they true meaning of family. I hope and pray that I can follow his example and rise above my ego long enough to see the potential in a stranger even when they are struggling to see it in themselves. Thank you Arthur for being the grandfather I never had, the angel I most needed and a life long friend. I will miss you deeply.
