“We are currently experiencing technical difficulties. The show will be delayed for a few minutes. We will be starting momentarily.” Well, that had not been the “Enjoy my show” line from King George III that my friends and I had been waiting to hear for months. We sat on the soft, red –– and super comfy, if I may add –– velvet seats while waiting with anticipation for our matinee to begin. At the same time, we were absolutely mesmerized by the beautiful Art Deco architecture of the Pantages Theatre. What was supposed to be minutes seemed to trudge along like hours. We tried to distract ourselves by flipping through the Playbill, cracking jokes, and just enjoying each other’s delightful company. And then the news broke. At least 50 minutes after the initial announcement, we were met with disappointment: “As a result of rigorous health and safety testing protocols, we have been advised that there are COVID-19 breakthrough cases backstage. The health and safety of our cast, crew, and audience are our top priority. Out of an abundance of caution, today’s 2 P.M. matinee performance of HAMILTONat the Hollywood Pantages Theatre has been canceled. Tickets for all attending –– ” The rest of that announcement was drowned out by the angry boos of theatergoers in the orchestra and mezzanine sections. My group and I could understand the frustration. We had carefully planned this day for months… Every part of that outing had been meticulously thought out from deciding what aesthetic outfits to wear, taking photos at Griffith Observatory, eating at Shake Shack… It seemed as if we traveled miles to Los Angeles for nothing on Christmas Eve.
But, it was circumstances like these that reminded me that good can still rise from bad. You have to make the best out of any situation. Although the major event of the day was canceled (and for reasonable intentions, of course), my friends and I still tried to have the time of our lives. After all, it was Christmas break, and with the surge of COVID-19 variants, we did not know when we could be as free as we were then. Carpe diem, right? We still lived out our La La Land dreams at Griffith, ate that super bussin’ Black Truffle Burger at Shake Shack, spontaneously toured Hollywood, eventually headed back to the Highway 101 after grabbing a classic Iced Coffee Rosé from Philz on Sunset Boulevard, and performed our own version of the long-awaited matinee by blasting and singing along with the Hamilton (Original Broadway Cast Recording) all the way home.
And, that was my last moment of freedom for a while. I never thought that the pandemic would persist for this long. I mean, I do not think any of us would have ever imagined that we would still be here in this historic global health crisis two years later this upcoming March 2022. Life with masks has become the new normal, and life has stayed just as difficult over the last 24 months… Perhaps, even more downhill this time around with the omicron surges. I have known so many people who have lost jobs, homes, and even their lives. This past January was a tough one for me and my church family as we lost one of our own to the virus after a very, very long –– almost never-ending –– battle. Every evening, the pastors held a prayer band, just hoping for a miracle. But, God had other plans in store. So… life has definitely not been getting easier. But as mentioned, it has only encouraged us to push harder to achieve goals that may seem unattainable in our current predicaments.
During this time, I felt inclined to help those who were disadvantaged by the COVID-19 pandemic heartbreaks exacerbated by social disparities. I was very blessed during the public health emergency, given that I was able to have a roof over my head, food to eat, a bed to sleep in, and a family to spend time with and love unconditionally. I know this unprecedented pandemic has been tough for countless survivors, with serpentine twists and turns on a long uphill climb. Yet, sometimes, we forget to look beyond ourselves and have an immersive experience with the world outside of us.
On Saturday, February 12, 2022, my church embarked on a grueling two-hour trip to Blythe, a small California town located east of Palm Springs and just minutes from the Arizona border. Blythe was a major place where many immigrants sought refuge during the border crisis. My youth group likes to focus on outreach, and we were very excited to be able to share our ministry with the Blythe Central Seventh-day Adventist Church/Iglesia Adventista Del Septimo Dia.
We left Beaumont around 7:30 A.M. on Sabbath morning and arrived in Blythe at about 10 A.M after encountering a few hiccups (semi-truck rollovers and Arizona Green Tea spills) in transit. We were greeted by some of the friendliest and most kind-hearted faces I have ever met. It was a small and quaint church, but I knew it was bubbling at the seams with warmth and the presence of the Holy Spirit. The youth planned to do our usual Divine Worship service, which was translated into Spanish by one of the Blythe church members. I had a blast speaking in my limited conversational Spanish –– I was over the moon that they were able to understand me –– and singing a solo for them as well as with my choir. The congregation was so ecstatic to be graced by our presence. It was as if the Lord had instilled His blessings onto the youth to bestow upon the Blythe church worshippers.
However, the blessings did not stop there. My favorite part of that day was when we went to Palm Springs. It was not to eat or go sightseeing. Rather, our choir director wanted us to sing for his hospice patients at some of his care facilities.
As we walked into the establishment, I took in my surroundings. It reeked of the smell of death. It was a small, one-story home that housed various residents. We sang Ralph Manuel’s “Alleluia” for the two places we visited. The sweet and ethereal music flooded the room immediately with just the first starting note. “Alleluia” has always been such a joy to sing (I have been singing it since my Chamber Singer days in high school), but this time was different. Seeing the looks on the residents’ faces warmed my soul. Some of them were even overwhelmed with emotions and tears.
I know that living conditions like these can be difficult to endure. Even if this was something they would only remember for a split second, it is being in the moment that counts the most. A little bit of hope to brighten their lives… just for a second. It was a beautiful moment that I know I am going to cherish forever. After all, it is the smallest gestures in life that can make the most transformative impact.
I can hear a solemn yet glowing fanfare to COVID trumpeting overhead. COVID may linger indefinitely, but the intolerable sufferings and unbearable losses have gifted us the strength we need to march forward towards a new beginning.
–– Ailinh Nguyen (Biomedical Science, Class of 2023)