The value of asking questions—and getting answers

 

Lomalinda and I hadn’t gotten off to a good start—in fact, it was traumatic—but after a few chaotic days, I’d turned a corner.

 

The time had come to steady myself and take a calmer look at all that seemed so foreign, to look toward an unknown future—the next hour, the next day, the next week—with maturity and optimism.

 

The time had come to embrace a can-do spirit. I could make progress by breaking my duties into small chunks, by taking deep breaths, and by asking questions of those who had lived in Lomalinda longer than I.

 

Sometimes pride has made me hesitant to ask questions, insecurity has made me reluctant to ask for help. But asking, and getting answers, can go a long way in solving problems, eliminating mysteries, and making much-needed progress.

 

Asking questions of my new colleagues, seasoned Lomalindians, reminds me of an experience I had on one of my first days in Lomalinda. And the memory makes me smile. Oh, the myriad things I had to learn! And how surprising some of them were!

 

“Wednesday is vegetable day,” Karen MacIntosh had told me. “A big truck brings produce based on what we order the previous week—I put an order in for you already. Next Wednesday morning, drop off your basket at the commissary. You have a great big basket, right?”

 

I nodded, remembering how the commissary manager, Esther Steen, insisted I needed one. Now I knew why.

 

“Good,” Karen said. “When our crew delivers your fruit and veggies Wednesday afternoon, I’ll come over and show you what to do with them.”

 

What to do with them? I wondered what she meant. What’s not to know already about fruits and vegetables? I’d been cooking since I was a kid.

 

Sure enough, Wednesday afternoon an aged truck lumbered and whined up and down Lomalinda’s hills delivering bulging baskets of produce, and soon Karen Mac arrived.

 

“First, we scrub them in soapy water,” she said, filling the kitchen sink.

 

“Then we’ll soak everything for twenty minutes in Lugol, an iodine solution to kill parasites. Those nasty little bugs can really mess up your digestive tract. And cause a lot of embarrassment in public.”

 

While I stood beside her scrubbing, I didn’t recognize some of the produce. I puzzled over some round fruits, yellow or gold in color. “Are these miniature grapefruits?” I asked.

 

“No, they’re oranges,” Karen smiled. Oranges? That was a surprise.

 

My questions continued until I worried I’d asked too many. But then I spotted small round things, green and covered with thick, warty skin. I had no idea what they were, but pride welled up and I told myself, You’ve asked too many questions. Don’t ask again.

 

Eventually, though, curiosity got the best of me and I blurted, “What are these?”

 

Karen laughed. Maybe she remembered asking the same question years earlier.

 

“They’re lemons. Watch this,” she grinned, slicing through the green rind. It was orange inside.

 

Oh, yes, I had so much to learn

about living in Lomalinda,

and some discoveries,

like what a lemon looked like,

made me laugh out loud.

 

And laughter is always good medicine.