Stories

The Call at 2 A.M.

It was 2 a.m. when my phone rang, piercing through the silence of the night. Sleepy, I answered, only to hear the trembling voice of one of my students. 

“Professor, please help me. I don’t know what to do. My sister… she tried to take her own life.” 

His words hit me like a lightning bolt.

I sat up immediately, the weight of his words snapping me into action. 

Calm down," I said gently but firmly. 

"Where is she now?"

“She’s unconscious in her room,” he sobbed.

“Listen to me carefully,” I said. 

“Call 911 immediately and stay with her until help arrives. Keep her airway clear and follow their instructions exactly. I’ll stay on the line until they get there.”

I guided him step by step, reassuring him while he waited for the emergency team to arrive. The paramedics took his sister to the hospital, and her life was saved that night.

The next day, he came to see me in my office. His eyes were red, and his face bore the marks of an emotional storm. 

“Thank you, Professor,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. “You saved my sister’s life.”

I looked at him momentarily, then asked, “Why did you call me? You could have called anyone—your friends, family, or another professor. Why me?”

He hesitated, then answered sincerely, staying with me long after. “Because I knew you would pick up. I’ve always felt that you truly care about us, not just as students but as people. The way you treat us in class… gave me the confidence to call you when I didn’t know where else to turn.”

His words humbled me. 

I often think of teaching as a responsibility to impart knowledge, but in that moment, I realized it’s also about creating a sense of trust and safety. Sometimes, not what we teach but how we make others feel leaves the deepest impact.

That night reminded me that being an educator is more than a profession—a bond. It’s about being there, even in the darkest hours, when someone trusts you enough to call and say, “Please help me.”

Adam’s Existential Questions!

Dec. 26, 2024

I spoke with Adam late this afternoon, and his presence brought a unique blend of youthful energy and quiet introspection to the room. At only 18, he’s already tackling the challenges of his first year in engineering—a journey that requires intellect and remarkable resilience.

Adam radiates potential, is tall and handsome, and has long black hair that frames his thoughtful face. Yet, like so many of his generation, he carries unseen burdens: depression, anxiety, self-esteem struggles, academic pressure, and the overwhelming grip of digital distractions.

As we talked, I saw glimpses of a restless soul yearning for direction, clarity, something more significant than the noise of the world around him. 

It reminded me of my journey as a young boy in the village. I shared a story with Adam that has shaped my life and might offer him the guidance he seeks: the story of Santiago from Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist.

“The secret is here in the present. If you pay attention to the present, you can improve upon it. 

And, if you improve on the present, what comes later will also be better." 

                    ― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

I told him how, like Santiago, I, too, spent my youth in the simplicity of nature, herding sheep in green valleys surrounded by majestic mountains. Those moments under the vast sky weren’t just about tending the flock; they were about learning to listen—to the whispers of the wind, the rhythm of life, and the stirrings of my heart. I explained how Santiago’s journey in the novel parallels the journeys we all must take: leaving the comfort of the familiar, facing uncertainty, and daring to follow our dreams.

Adam listened intently as I described Santiago’s pursuit of his Personal Legend—his unique purpose in life. I shared how the book teaches us that the universe conspires to help those who listen to their hearts and take bold steps forward. “This,” I told Adam, “Is a story that resonates deeply with anyone searching for meaning and direction.”

I could see the spark of curiosity in his eyes as I spoke about Santiago’s encounters with the desert, the stars, and the wisdom of the natural world.

“And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”

― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

I shared how these mirrored my childhood experiences, marveling at butterflies dancing in the valley or losing myself under a canopy of stars. These moments taught me that the cosmos is alive, interconnected, and brimming with lessons—if only we take the time to notice.

I encouraged Adam to read The Alchemist not just as a novel but as an invitation to reflect on his journey. Like Santiago, he could learn to trust the process, embrace uncertainty, and recognize that life’s true treasures often lie within. 

I emphasized that the story is also about mindfulness, finding joy in the present, and seeing the sacred in the ordinary—a lesson I continue to cherish from my youth.

“There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.”

― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

The bottom line is that I felt a quiet hope that Santiago’s journey—and perhaps my own—might light a small beacon for Adam as he navigates the challenges of his youth. 

In his eyes, I saw a glimmer of something more substantial than the struggles he shared: the promise of a soul ready to embark on its quest for purpose and meaning.