A tale of two umbrellas

When we face a crisis, we turn to our parents, teachers, or mentors. They speak to us and show us the way that we cannot find ourselves. Friends, have you ever been influenced by something that can't even speak or move? When I was growing up, I went through a time of great upheaval, and during that dark period, it gave me hope. Likewise, in my adult life, when I witnessed humanity torn apart by distrust, division, and discord, it again rekindled my hope. Friends and fellow Toastmasters, the heroes in my story are two umbrellas, one black and one colorful.

I grew up in the eighties in a small town in India. We lived in an extended family with my uncles, their families, and cousins, all residing in a small villa. My grandmother was the heart of our family. She was the true embodiment of love, kindness, and generosity. Back then, it was common for distant relatives visiting the town to stay with us. There was a makeshift shelter, and my grandmother treated them with utmost care. Her spirit radiated a light that brightened everything, and she instilled in me the belief that Service to man is service to God. In the late eighties, when I was in high school, our region faced anti-immigrant protests. People from different parts of India, as well as from the neighboring country, were settling in our locality. The locals believed they had taken their jobs and businesses. The protest soon turned violent. Outsiders' businesses and property were vandalized, and I helplessly watched mobs burn carts of poor vendors, destroy rickshaw vehicles, and forcibly take away their livelihoods. It was the worst of times. As human values crumbled like a house of cards, I stood alone, and my only ally was an umbrella. I used to carry a black umbrella to school and began offering it to anyone who needed it. If I saw a rickshaw puller working under the scorching sun, I extended my umbrella for shade. “My son, God bless you,” he would say. When I saw a street vendor pushing his fruit cart through pouring rain, I offered my umbrella, and he would smile and say, “I will pray for you, my son.” One time, when I offered my umbrella to a man coming home after a long day, he mentioned, “My daughter is getting married, and I have no money.” Without hesitation, I handed him my pocket money and told him, “You will be just fine.”  That umbrella uplifted me, rekindling my hope. I started to see love, kindness, and compassion.

Fifteen years later, Anjana and I had an arranged marriage.  There was hardly any preparation. I had to get Anjana’s passport, obtain our marriage certificate, and, within 72 hours of our wedding, we flew to New Delhi for her interview at the U.S. embassy. When her name was called, I realized I had forgotten to bring the interview form. I hurriedly filled out the form and prayed when I heard a voice, “He is the lucky guy.” It was the immigration officer's voice. He just looked at Anjana and, pointing to me, told her, “He is the lucky guy.” He didn't even look at the papers; he signed her visa and said with a broad smile, “Welcome to America.”

Friends, life is like a box of chocolates—you never know what you're going to get!

It was a defining moment in my life. I had worked hard, studied hard, and sacrificed a lot to come to this country, and when the officer spoke to me, I felt he was saying, “I heard you, I see your sincerity and effort, and I am welcoming you.”

Today, our world is facing many crises. The polarization among communities, races, immigrants, and non-immigrants is causing fear, mistrust, discord, and division. In this time of chaos, madness, and despair, I felt I had to tell my story to the world, including how that immigration officer welcomed me. While preparing my speech, I decided to use an umbrella as a prop, symbolizing how I have grown personally, professionally, and spiritually under this country's umbrella, and I ordered one. Meanwhile, Anjana had been studying for her citizenship exam to become a U.S. citizen. Last month, she attended her interview and came home jubilant; she had been accepted. Anjana is always grateful to America and the freedom, liberty, and pursuit of happiness it offers her. That night, I went to bed early. Around 10 PM, she woke me up, saying, “Wake up, there’s a UPS truck outside; the driver is bringing a large gift box.” “What’s in it?” I asked. “It’s an umbrella—a large, colorful umbrella,” she said excitedly. Then she asked, “Did you receive a gift when you became a U.S. citizen?” I replied, “I got a nice certificate!” “But they sent me an umbrella.” When she opened it, it was the most beautiful umbrella I had ever seen. I looked at it and at her; it was a surreal moment. I ordered this umbrella for my speech, but my wife genuinely believed that the United States Citizenship and Immigration Service sent her an umbrella decorated with the American flag to welcome her!

Friends, life is like a box of chocolates—you never know what you're going to get! 

We are all born of love. Love is the very essence of our existence, and we are nurtured and sustained by it. When I was a young boy, it was an umbrella that showed me the power of love, and once again, it was an umbrella that made me realize that love is boundless, eternal, and unifying. Friends, let love be the foundation of our lives; let love be the enduring source of goodness; let love be recognized as our inalienable right, and let kindness, compassion, and empathy steer our nation.