My last article dealt with two poems and one piece of prose. In various ways, each touches upon being remembered. In John Donne’s Meditation XVII, it includes this paragraph.

Donne was inclusive and saw humankind as related to each other. Six decades ago, I thought that I understood Donne’s mindset. If Mrs. Davis had asked me what Donne’s message was, I would have grasped the concept of our connectedness.

However, that was at the beginning of my journey down the yellow brick road of life. A lifetime later, in my journey’s twilight years, I experienced the transformation of my entire Weltanschauung worldview. It happened near Inle Lake, Myanmar, a dozen years ago. Moh, my tour guide, had to stop at her home to pick up my itinerary after I left Inle Lake.

We walked into her home and were greeted by her 9-year-old daughter, Ti Ti. Ti Ti asked whether I wanted to play some games with her.

I have written about that transformation hundreds of times. After playing Scrabble with her for nearly an hour, I left her home, realizing that I had met her granddaughter. Ti Ti, her sisters, and parents have been my family since then. I returned twice to visit my family. On the last trip, we went on a family tour together. However, before the tour, we attended a special recognition assembly at a private college preparatory high school where Ti Ti attended. She won the best in math in the entire State of Shan.

Then off we went on our family tour.

Ti Ti’s parents were tour guides, and we went to places that an American tourist would have rarely visited. Such a place was a small village called Set Set Yo. Her parents had two reasons for going to Set Set Yo. They are devout Buddhists, and they gave the monks their offering at the monastery. They also wanted to show me a fading hair-style tradition of top-knots that young children still use.

I also spent time flipping young kids.

However, most of my time at Set Set Yo was spent holding a child who hadn’t celebrated her first birthday. I don’t recall picking her up, but I recall holding her for most of the time at Set Set Yo. Either Ti Ti or her uncle had my camera and took this photo of the two of us staring at each other.

I carried her wherever I went. I kept calling her the little one. Finally, I asked Moh Moh how to say the little one in Burmese, which is A Ngal Lay.

If you go to A Ngal Lay on my website, you will see many videos and photos. As I carried her around, I had the same feelings that I had after playing Scrabble with Ti Ti. The only difference was that A Ngal Lay is my great-granddaughter.

I have a friend who is an artist in Myanmar. His name is Than. I asked him to paint me holding A Ngal Lay.

When he completed the painting, it was given to A Ngal Lay.

As I said, I hope that I can return to Myanmar and visit my family. Then we could return to Set Set Yo. All that the little one knows is that she was held by some American as an infant. All that I am in her mind is a story. I remember her; nonetheless, I’m not a memory of her great-grandfather. That haunts me.

I hope that I can sit down with her and allow her to connect emotionally with me. I want her to experience the oneness about which John Donne wrote. I hope that we can reunite...and remember. It is a bittersweet feeling that comes over me that I might die before I can return. I’ll go to my grave thinking what Donne ended his reflection.

In closing, this is a video of the little one as she was reading from a book. Talk about determination. Perhaps she is reading from Donne’s Meditation XVII and is thinking about the bells tolling.