DISCURSOS - Rotary International
DISCURSOS - Rotary International
DISCURSOS - Rotary International
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land. He talked about them and the new Indian democracy, which was then just about 30 years<br />
old. He talked of the Hindu religion and of its philosophy of tolerance. He talked of the eternal<br />
things: of hope, of love, of friendship, of wisdom, of his dreams and aspirations for the future.<br />
On and on into the night he talked: of life, of liberty, of <strong>Rotary</strong>, of peace, the deepest sentiments<br />
of the human soul. Eventually, he got up off the floor and went to the corner of his living room<br />
where he had a little Hindu shrine. He picked up a small, faded paper and he came and stood<br />
in front of me. I can see him today, standing there with such dignity and majesty — a five-foot,<br />
brown-skinned, wrinkled, white-haired old man. And then he said, “Rick, this poem reflects my<br />
dreams for my life and my country.” Ninety-four years old! “It is the poem your great American<br />
poet Robert Frost read at the inauguration of John Kennedy.” And he began to read. He was mistaken:<br />
Frost had read a different poem at Kennedy’s inauguration, but I didn’t correct him. And<br />
always in my mind, I see him as he stood there that night and read Frost’s immortal words:<br />
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,<br />
But I have promises to keep,<br />
And miles to go before I sleep,<br />
And miles to go before I sleep.<br />
I looked at my watch and it was 5:00 in the morning, but I wasn’t tired anymore. I had been refreshed<br />
in the human spirit, as if I’d had a long shower and 12 hours of sleep. I looked into the<br />
face of this wise old man and reached over and touched his feet with the mark of respect, the<br />
way one does a patriarch in an Indian family. And then I couldn’t help myself: I grabbed this little<br />
white-haired man into my arms, pressed him against my chest, and with all my heart and soul,<br />
I loved him, I truly loved him. A perfect stranger, one night, way out in the Great Indian Desert. I<br />
will never forget him.<br />
I saw him once —<br />
He stood a moment there.<br />
His eyes met mine —<br />
And laid my spirit bare.<br />
He held my hand —<br />
Then passed beyond my ken —<br />
But what I was —<br />
I will never be again.<br />
What was the miracle that caused his life to cross paths with mine, that made me the recipient<br />
of such a gift? The miracle was <strong>Rotary</strong>. He was a Rotarian, and lucky for me, so was I. The first<br />
man put me into <strong>Rotary</strong>. The second put <strong>Rotary</strong> into me!<br />
Who touched you?<br />
And so, this week, here, at this time and in this place, you begin the journey. And when the <strong>Rotary</strong><br />
club presidents in your district wonder how you ever got selected, just remember the words<br />
of Bishop Fulton J. Sheen: “If they’re kicking you in the rear, you must be out in front!”<br />
In the words of Past <strong>Rotary</strong> <strong>International</strong> President Richard L. Evans:<br />
It sometimes seems that we live as if we wondered when life was going to begin. It isn’t<br />
always clear just what we are looking for, but some of us sometimes persist in waiting so<br />
long that life slips by — finding us still waiting for something that has been going on all the<br />
time. . . . There is no reason to doubt . . . good intentions — but when in the world are we<br />
going to begin to live as if we understood that this is it? This is life? This is our time, our day,<br />
<strong>International</strong> Assembly Speeches 2013 11