Muhammad Saleh Kismadi

Many moons ago, I was the priest at a wedding, on the high altar of Immaculate Conception Church, in Cubao. The bride was Gloria Castro, a good Catholic girl who had graduated from the College of New Rochelle, in New York. While at New Rochelle, she was strongly attracted to the convent. She was thinking of becoming an Ursuline nun. The groom was a Muslim, named Kismadi.

After the wedding, they settled down in Indonesia. They had no children, so they adopted a baby girl, whom they called: "Budhita". Kismadi spent most of his productive life working with the environment, as an official of the Indonesian government. He was perfectly at peace in this job, because he loved the beauty, the magnificence, the glory of God’s creation.

Gloria wrote of him:

"He spent a lot of time in his garden. There were days when he would come in from the garden very happy. . . . . one of the orchids was just about to bloom; a plant he thought was dying, and tried to save, was starting to show new shoots; or he was just happy because he had ‘touched the new leaves of all the plants’."

"Kis often said that he had only three purposes in life: to love God, to love his fellow man, and to love the environment. How blessed he was that he was able to live his life doing just that."

"Perhaps it started with his love for people and then the environment and being with people, working for the environment made him see and value Creation so that, in the end, it was God he sought. . . . . and found. As he expressed in his poem, written only a month before he passed away: . . . . ‘I defied You, and I challenged You to do battle with me in a field of my choosing. . . . Earth. . . . Which is my territory. You took up my dare and now, My Lord, allow me to come to You’."

Kismadi expressed his thoughts, sometimes, in writing. For instance:

Thou. . . . .

Thou art. . . . . . . and we are,

And time stands still.

On Aging

Aging graciously

requires a greater willingness

to admit one’s mistakes

without blaming them on age

or on anything else

and foregoing pity.

No excuses, no search

for self-deluding solace.

No self-pity but also no paranoia.

* * *

Youth

A cheer for those who are young,

Those innocents abroad still eager to learn,

and who believe that fame is theirs to earn.

They are bold and free of any inhibition,

Playing it by ear, guided by intuition,

Making the most of any opportunity,

For theirs is the kingdom of serendipity,

And exploration, for ever and ever, Amen.

* * *

Pantung Lampung

If you will hold the rudder

I will gladly row the boat.

If you will draw the water from the well

I will gladly water all the barren fields.

If you will wait at each journey’s end

I will gladly live a thousand lives.

I should say no more

Lest in bargaining with you

I should lose you, and lose myself.

* * *

Bubui Bolan

Time stands still

When people tell of love

And therefore,

Tell of love now.

* * *

Kismadi died in the Year 2002, while attending an international meeting on environment, in Mexico. Gloria, his wife, published a selection of his writings in a beautiful blue brochure called: "Salmagundi – a mixture of seasonings". She included a poem that she wrote to Kismadi:

You Cannot Ever

Leave Me Now

You cannot ever leave me now

nor I, you. . . .

now that you and I have become we

and the we in us has created memories

too precious to be tossed away and forgotten.

. . . . . walking home barefoot in a storm

or painting morning glories on rice paper,

stopping to buy three yellow chrysanthemums

to put in a green celadon vase sitting lonely

on the ledge of a window

looking out on the bay.

Memories are woven out of dreams,

promises kept and cherished,

some forgotten, others forgiven.

Like us, they grow with time,

they fill the we that is our life

even as we add more.

No, you cannot ever leave me now

nor I, you.

* * *

The epilogue of Salmagundi was written by the adopted daughter of Kismadi and Gloria, Budhita:

"A lifetime of memories. . . . that is one of the most beautiful gifts that Bapak has left me. Of a hot summer day in Beirut as a toddler of three years old, walking happily with a popsicle in one hand, and Bapak’s finger in the other. Of another summer evening in Madison, Wisconsin as a little girl of five years old riding high on his shoulders while clutching onto his curly hair. . . . feeling that I was on top of the world! Of waking up after having had my tonsils removed at the age of 12, and feeling his hand in mine. . . . believing that just holding his hand would make the pain go away. Of being comforted by an email giving me courage as a young woman, when my heart was broken by someone I thought I would love forever. ‘Believe in your inner strength’, he said, ‘for it will never fail you’."

"Bapak never ceased to wonder, and taught me to see things differently. Once, the wind blew a dry leaf into the house, and Bapak said, ‘Aha! A letter from God. . . .’ and gently picked up the leaf and put it back in the garden."

"The next time you see a leaf fall within your path, gently pick it up and take a good look. . . who knows, it just might be a poem from Bapak just for you."

This family demonstrates, with crystal clarity, that Christians and Muslims can live together, learn from each other, love each other, and be deeply grateful to God that He gave them as gifts to each other. Like Kismadi’s orchid, blossoming in his garden, they are a beautiful sign of hope for the Philippines, for Indonesia, for Asia, and for the world.