saco-indonesia.com, Saya ingin mengawali renungan kita kali ini dengan mengingatkan pada salah satu kisah kehidupan yang mungkin banyak tercecer di depan mata kita. Cerita ini tentang seorang kakek yang sederhana, hidup sebagai orang kampung yang bersahaja. Suatu sore, ia mendapati pohon pepaya di depan rumahnya telah berbuah. Walaupun hanya dua buah namun telah menguning dan siap dipanen. Ia berencana memetik buah itu di keesokan hari. Namun, tatkala pagi tiba, ia mendapati satu buah pepayanya hilang dicuri orang.
Kakek itu begitu bersedih, hingga istrinya merasa heran. “masak hanya karena sebuah pepaya saja engkau demikian murung” ujar sang istri.
“bukan itu yang aku sedihkan” jawab sang kakek, “aku kepikiran, betapa sulitnya orang itu mengambil pepaya kita. Ia harus sembunyi-sembunyi di tengah malam agar tidak ketahuan orang. Belum lagi mesti memanjatnya dengan susah payah untuk bisa memetiknya..”
“dari itu Bune” lanjut sang kakek, “saya akan pinjam tangga dan saya taruh di bawah pohon pepaya kita, mudah-mudahan ia datang kembali malam ini dan tidak akan kesulitan lagi mengambil yang satunya”.
Namun saat pagi kembali hadir, ia mendapati pepaya yang tinggal sebuah itu tetap ada beserta tangganya tanpa bergeser sedikitpun. Ia mencoba bersabar, dan berharap pencuri itu akan muncul lagi di malam ini. Namun di pagi berikutnya, tetap saja buah pepaya itu masih di tempatnya.
Di sore harinya, sang kakek kedatangan seorang tamu yang menenteng duah buah pepaya besar di tangannya. Ia belum pernah mengenal si tamu tersebut. Singkat cerita, setelah berbincang lama, saat hendak pamitan tamu itu dengan amat menyesal mengaku bahwa ialah yang telah mencuri pepayanya.
“Sebenarnya” kata sang tamu, “di malam berikutnya saya ingin mencuri buah pepaya yang tersisa. Namun saat saya menemukan ada tangga di sana, saya tersadarkan dan sejak itu saya bertekad untuk tidak mencuri lagi. Untuk itu, saya kembalikan pepaya Anda dan untuk menebus kesalahan saya, saya hadiahkan pepaya yang baru saya beli di pasar untuk Anda”.
Hikmah yang bisa diambil dari kisah inspirasi diatas, adalah tentang keikhlasan, kesabaran, kebajikan dan cara pandang positif terhadap kehidupan.
Mampukah kita tetap bersikap positif saat kita kehilangan sesuatu yang kita cintai dengan ikhlas mencari sisi baiknya serta melupakan sakitnya suatu “musibah”?
Sumber:Pengjian LDII(Liwon Maulana "galipat")
Cerita Inspiratif: Kisah Kakek dan Pencuri Pepaya
Hockey is not exactly known as a city game, but played on roller skates, it once held sway as the sport of choice in many New York neighborhoods.
“City kids had no rinks, no ice, but they would do anything to play hockey,” said Edward Moffett, former director of the Long Island City Y.M.C.A. Roller Hockey League, in Queens, whose games were played in city playgrounds going back to the 1940s.
From the 1960s through the 1980s, the league had more than 60 teams, he said. Players included the Mullen brothers of Hell’s Kitchen and Dan Dorion of Astoria, Queens, who would later play on ice for the National Hockey League.
One street legend from the heyday of New York roller hockey was Craig Allen, who lived in the Woodside Houses projects and became one of the city’s hardest hitters and top scorers.
“Craig was a warrior, one of the best roller hockey players in the city in the ’70s,” said Dave Garmendia, 60, a retired New York police officer who grew up playing with Mr. Allen. “His teammates loved him and his opponents feared him.”
Young Craig took up hockey on the streets of Queens in the 1960s, playing pickup games between sewer covers, wearing steel-wheeled skates clamped onto school shoes and using a roll of electrical tape as the puck.
His skill and ferocity drew attention, Mr. Garmendia said, but so did his skin color. He was black, in a sport made up almost entirely by white players.
“Roller hockey was a white kid’s game, plain and simple, but Craig broke the color barrier,” Mr. Garmendia said. “We used to say Craig did more for race relations than the N.A.A.C.P.”
Mr. Allen went on to coach and referee roller hockey in New York before moving several years ago to South Carolina. But he continued to organize an annual alumni game at Dutch Kills Playground in Long Island City, the same site that held the local championship games.
The reunion this year was on Saturday, but Mr. Allen never made it. On April 26, just before boarding the bus to New York, he died of an asthma attack at age 61.
Word of his death spread rapidly among hundreds of his old hockey colleagues who resolved to continue with the event, now renamed the Craig Allen Memorial Roller Hockey Reunion.
The turnout on Saturday was the largest ever, with players pulling on their old equipment, choosing sides and taking once again to the rink of cracked blacktop with faded lines and circles. They wore no helmets, although one player wore a fedora.
Another, Vinnie Juliano, 77, of Long Island City, wore his hearing aids, along with his 50-year-old taped-up quads, or four-wheeled skates with a leather boot. Many players here never converted to in-line skates, and neither did Mr. Allen, whose photograph appeared on a poster hanging behind the players’ bench.
“I’m seeing people walking by wondering why all these rusty, grizzly old guys are here playing hockey,” one player, Tommy Dominguez, said. “We’re here for Craig, and let me tell you, these old guys still play hard.”
Everyone seemed to have a Craig Allen story, from his earliest teams at Public School 151 to the Bryant Rangers, the Woodside Wings, the Woodside Blues and more.
Mr. Allen, who became a yellow-cab driver, was always recruiting new talent. He gained the nickname Cabby for his habit of stopping at playgrounds all over the city to scout players.
Teams were organized around neighborhoods and churches, and often sponsored by local bars. Mr. Allen, for one, played for bars, including Garry Owen’s and on the Fiddler’s Green Jokers team in Inwood, Manhattan.
Play was tough and fights were frequent.
“We were basically street gangs on skates,” said Steve Rogg, 56, a mail clerk who grew up in Jackson Heights, Queens, and who on Saturday wore his Riedell Classic quads from 1972. “If another team caught up with you the night before a game, they tossed you a beating so you couldn’t play the next day.”
Mr. Garmendia said Mr. Allen’s skin color provoked many fights.
“When we’d go to some ignorant neighborhoods, a lot of players would use slurs,” Mr. Garmendia said, recalling a game in Ozone Park, Queens, where local fans parked motorcycles in a lineup next to the blacktop and taunted Mr. Allen. Mr. Garmendia said he checked a player into the motorcycles, “and the bikes went down like dominoes, which started a serious brawl.”
A group of fans at a game in Brooklyn once stuck a pole through the rink fence as Mr. Allen skated by and broke his jaw, Mr. Garmendia said, adding that carloads of reinforcements soon arrived to defend Mr. Allen.
And at another racially incited brawl, the police responded with six patrol cars and a helicopter.
Before play began on Saturday, the players gathered at center rink to honor Mr. Allen. Billy Barnwell, 59, of Woodside, recalled once how an all-white, all-star squad snubbed Mr. Allen by playing him third string. He scored seven goals in the first game and made first string immediately.
“He’d always hear racial stuff before the game, and I’d ask him, ‘How do you put up with that?’” Mr. Barnwell recalled. “Craig would say, ‘We’ll take care of it,’ and by the end of the game, he’d win guys over. They’d say, ‘This guy’s good.’” Tribute for a Roller Hockey Warrior