A Moment Of Grace

Mini became a T’ai Chi Chih student a few years ago, after retiring from her job at the library. She did not know anything about this form and wondered if it would be too hard. We welcomed her, told her it was okay to be a beginner, and that this group could be her new family. After that first class, she came to me with a hand touching her heart and tearfully whispered, “This class is for me. This is so beautiful.”

She wanted to be like us – serene and calm. I said the fastest way to learn is to stand near the teacher, to absorb all the unspoken aspects of this form. She did just that. As the months rolled by, students commented on how quickly Mini learned to do TCC. She was friendly, enthusiastic and invited friends to enroll in class.

When Mini’s health took a turn for the worse she still came to class when she could. The treatments for her rare form of blood cancer “took the starch out of her,” but she kept going. Many were so impressed with her desire to not give up, despite chemotherapy and more invasive procedures.

In January 2016, classes resumed, but Mini did not return to class. Two weeks later came the news: Mini had passed away. We were shocked and felt a keen loss of a special friend. The following week we dedicated our practice to Mini. A table was set with brocade cloth, flowers and large candles. A copy of the condolence note to the Whitney family was displayed alongside her photograph.

During the class, something unusual happened. During the first two TCC movements, as we stood in a large circle, I had the distinct feeling that spirits were coming into the room, and it felt crowded. I mentioned this to the class. Another student, a Hindu swami and close friend, assured us that yes, indeed, there were many spirits in the room and that Mini was right in the middle of the room. She described that many of these spirits were angels with big white wings. We felt amazingly happy. It was truly a moment of Grace.