EDGE OF THE HALO

EDGE OF THE HALO 

When life speaks to one’s self, is there awareness from within to listen? Is this a spiritual presentation —an invitation to a gifted lesson? My life has walked upon this bridge, and I speak of a few events that have questioned my awareness. 

In 1957, when I was eighteen, the beginning of awareness challenges me. A group of us teenagers would occasionally get together on the weekend for an evening movie. Afterwards we would always stop at a fast-food restaurant, for a soda or ice cream. This one evening, we walked into a restaurant and sat down to order; but there was one guy in our group who didn’t order anything—he didn’t have any money. He just sat there and watched us, as we gobbled down our food and ice cream. There was an older couple sitting down from us who observed this sad situation. They called over the waiter, and told him to tell the young man to order anything he wanted and they would pay the bill. These people had, indeed, touched the edge of the halo. A halo, that began to glow into my life. I never, ever forgot this lesson! As life moved on, I have encountered many opportunities of compassion, to correct many wrongs. 

In June 1988, a young lady of about 25 started her new job in my department where I work. She traveled some distance and was not familiar with her new surroundings or fellow workers. She had worked for only one week, when the car she was driving, was hit from behind by two other cars. She was shaken up very badly, and was taken by ambulance to the hospital. I thought about this all morning and at lunch time went to the hospital to see if she was all right. She was still in the emergency room, waiting for results of her injuries. She was shaking and scared of all that had happened. I spoke to her, and reassured her that this strange place and a stranger from work cared about what happened to her. I waited until someone came in from her family. I kissed her on the forehead, as a father would his daughter, and went back to work. On this day, awareness of compassion called, and indeed it was I, who had reached the edge of the halo. 

The one event that has had the most dramatic impact, is one of special grace, that has changed my life. On March 25, 1995, I was at the University of Connecticut attending a women’s basketball game against Virginia. The UCONN team had won all of their games thus far (32-0), and needed this win to advance to the Final Four. UCONN had a 19-point lead, but Virginia had an unstoppable scoring surge and at half time UCONN was behind by 7 points. The many fouls and disputed calls by the officials had the UCONN coach upset as he heatedly voiced his displeasure to one of the officials. The coach’s wife and their two children were sitting down in front of me. Her watered eyes showed deep concern and the daughter was embracing her brother, who was crying. I was overcome with such deep compassion; but what could I do? Then it happened! I was holding a small wooden cross in my pocket when spiritual intervention beckoned. I went down to the coach’s wife; placed my cross into her hand and clasped it. I didn’t say anything and returned to my seat. With a dramatic finish, UCONN came from behind to win the game—to advance to the Final Four. During the victory celebration, the coach’s wife came up to me to return my cross. She embraced me and said, “Thank you, thank you.” I told her to keep my cross and take it with her to Minneapolis to the Final Four. UCONN went on the defeat Stanford, then Tennessee and to remain undefeated at 35-0. UCONN was national champion of 1995! My cross remains with the coach’s wife. The gift of the cross and the gift of the halo have touched me very deeply. The glitter of the halo is the remembrance when intervention and faith were sprinkled with grace. For on this day, I held the halo, for the very first time. 

The most rewarding and extraordinary event in my life was of unexpected grace. On October 16, 1995, as I was attending a Catholic Lecture Series in Wethersfield, Connecticut at the Church of the Incarnation, a woman spoke to me saying she hadn’t been to these lectures for some time, because of her ill husband. He had recently passed away and she felt guilty because of her new freedom to attend. I said to her: “This was his gift to you.” This woman looked at me and said: “Oh! Oh! I felt that! I really felt that!” She touched my hand to thank me and said she felt such warmness in my hand. Later when the lecture was over, she returned to thank me, and put her hand on my shoulder and said: “I even feel it now. Thank you so much.” On June 15, 1996, I attended a retreat on “compassion” at Wisdom House, in Litchfield, Connecticut. This same woman was there and we spoke; her name is Michele. I asked her what she had felt when she was gifted from what I said to her. She said: “It was like a hot flash; it was like a glow.” She thanked me once again and said she was overwhelmed, to think this could happen to her from a stranger, she had never met. In documented cases these hot flashes, glow, warmness are but a few symptoms associated with spiritual healing. This spiritual gift is from the Lord, given through another person. I am in great reverence of this gift and that He chose me, to be His tiny instrument. The Lord led me to the edge of the halo and I was able to grasp hold of it on one side with both hands; I held it for a long time—the Lord’s Hands, were on the other side. 

On March 30, 1996, my wife and I boarded a Northwest Airlines flight from Seattle to Detroit. Shortly before takeoff, a flight attendant brought a young boy to his seat. He was about eight years old, traveling alone, and was frightened. He sat between two men, about four rows in front of me and to the left. After takeoff there was a movie to be shown, Mr. Holland’s Opus. The flight attendant came down the aisle offering rental earphones; I did not rent the earphones but after a while a thought came to me. I called the flight attendant over, and told her that I had noticed the young boy traveling alone and said: “If the boy wants to watch the movie, I’ll pay for his earphones.” She looked at me a little startled and said, how sweet that was. She went over to ask the boy, gave him the earphones, and I paid her. This again, was another compassionate act; however, this story is not finished. When the movie was over, and all the earphones had been collected, the flight attendant walked down to me, put her hand on my shoulder and very softly said, thank you. It was then I knew that she, too, had touched the edge of the halo—halo of compassion that gives and receives, a lesson of awareness; a calling; a special something that goes beyond a special thought, before it disappears. 

I have found a halo to be a whisper, that creates an awareness to a spiritual presence. A halo is made up of three components: the giver, the receiver, the observer; these elements combine into a continuous ring, that radiates its gifts to others. A halo is not imaginary—it is an aura that can be felt; a beacon that waits, for a special moment, a special place. 

My life continues to have precious moments of compassion, which ignite special results. They just happen! And when they do, I listen, and remember my first lesson in 1957 when I was touched by the “edge of the halo.”

Robert J Varrick 

rjvarrick@gmail.com