[Daniel Becerra]

Hi. Last night, I had an amazing experience. Four individuals that I know and I happen to be on the same place at the same time. They barely knew one another, some knew each other more than the rest, but I knew all of them decently enough. At one moment I stopped and say "Time out. I want to ask ALL OF YOU one question and I'd really appreciate it if you answer it". They all agreed. I must mention that it was in the middle of some laughter and it occurred to me in that particular moment. I hadn't planned it all day or anything. I asked again to make sure I had everyone's attention. I did.

I say, since 'Linda' is the youngest, I'll ask her first. "What is one thing really close to your heart?". She looked me a bit confused and then she exclaiming with half a smile and half surprise "How on earth am I suppose to answer that!?". My witty ass said "With words. I hope". Then Mike, the other guy who knew her a bit, said "With words in English. Not in Dutch". Of course, she was Dutch. She thought about it for a minute and I could actually begin to feel a tension building up. I said 'Do you want me to come back to you?". Then she said, almost ignoring my question "I don't know how to put in English" - to which I responded 'Take your time' and added 'Would you like to skip over? I'll make sure to come back to you'. She said 'Yes, please'.

It was Mike's turn. You see, Mike doesn't like to get too sentimental. He hates it as a matter of fact. "I hate crying, man. It makes me feel so stupid. That's why I never cry". He confessed this to me later, in an attempt to play things off a bit. I thought it was funny how he justified he never crying. I asked Mike, "What's one thing really close to your heart, Mike?". Without hesitation, he mentioned "My family". I actually knew this about Mike. His family is everything to him, even when his father says the best thing for him to do is to join the Army, because he doesn't have a future here; and even when his sister supports his father. His mother is in Pennsylvania and he misses her very much. His family is everything to him, period. "They mean everything to me, man". What would you do for them, Mike? I asked. "Anything". He said it with a conviction that left me to ask no more questions. He wasn't the type of guy to get the least emotional at any moment, but I knew what he was hiding. "Thank you, brother" I said smiling. Anytime, said Mike.

"Ask me. Ask ME" said Natalie, more like a girl in school who knew the answer to the question the teacher was asking . She is a gorgeous, super tall, goofy girl, and probably one of the nicest girls I've met. "Alright, Natalie. Since you're super anxious, I'll ask you - Tell me one thing really close to your heart". "My Madea" she said it with such a big smile and excitement that it was clear that she meant it, although I had no idea what 'Madea' meant. "Your what?". "My Grandma, Daniel. She's 91!" she added "We call her Madea" and then "Oh, my grandpa too! Except that he passed away in 99". So I asked "Did they raise you?". "Well, I grew up with my entire family, but I love them to death. They are really fun". I continued with "Cool. Now, if you had one day with them to do whatever you want. What would you do? Where would you go?" She thought about it for five seconds. I loved her enthusiasm. "I would just go to her house (Grandma's) and sit down with her and listen to her stories. She always told us stories. It's always interesting because she lived through the Great Depression, the War, and all of that" She continued "She told me there was no job and almost no food.". To which I responded "She lived through the Great Depression, that's right. That's gotta be awesome to hear from". She simply said "Yep". I added 'And we complain about this recession, right?' Tell me about it, she said. "Alright, Thank you, Nat. You're adorable".

"Melody, it's your turn. Do you mind answering the question?" I asked. She took her time to respond. "You already know, hun. But I'll say it anyway" She was right, I already knew the answer to my question. There was doubt in my mind that the closest things to her heart were... "My sons, I would do anything for them." Melody is a mother of two. She's 29 years old and surviving from paycheck to paycheck. It flashed into my mind when she told me weeks ago "Working to this company is not exactly the job dream I wanted to do, but it helps me keep my sons alive and well off". Back into the conversation, I asked "If you could leave them one thing, just one thing before you part away, what would it be?". She contemplated the answer for what seemed like an eternity (which really weren't more than ten seconds) and she said quietly "A father". She was moved, by this time, and everyone else just watched quietly. "They need a male role model, right?", I asked. She responded "Yeah, besides their Papi (Daddy), but he is not exactly, you know...". I knew. The father of her kids wasn't exactly the father we all would want to have. "They'll be fine", I added "I promise" to reassure her of it.

"Linda!" I shouted while I smiled. She had a smile on her face now. She knew her answer. "Do you mind if I ask you now? Are you ready?". She responded "Yes". Alright, let's hear it. She responded passively "My sister". "I had a feeling you would say that, you know?" She laughed and exclaimed "You did?". I did know. I met Linda one night and after 2 minutes of talking, I said to her that I could see some sadness in her eyes. And I truly meant that. Although she smiled at first, saying "I'm okay", it didn't take too long to tell me about her sister who suffers of Anorexia. She went on that night to tell me about being really worried about her. Going back to the conversation I asked "I'll ask you the same thing I asked Melody. If you and her for whatever reason had to be separated, what would you want her to have?". Her answer taught me something. "Her boyfriend" She added "Since she's been with him, she is been much better. Not throwing up, eating better. She needs him". I see, I said. "Daniel. My sister and I have never really connected but I love her, I really love her". 'I don't doubt it, Linda' I responded. "I really care for her". I knew. I knew she cared for her. Linda is one of those girls who can care for people a half world away. Whoever wins her over will be one lucky man.

"What about you, man?" Mike asked. In between I had told them that I would go last and that at the end of all of it, I would explain to me why I asked them these questions. I knew my answer long before they asked me.

"People" I continued "My passion is people. Well-known friends, family, or just known acquaintances differ in nothing in my eyes. I'm learning and trying to see everyone equal" Bit by bit, although I get off track quite often I'm learning to love more. "That's what is closest to my heart. No longer do I believe in achievement, money, sex, cars, etc. That will go away once I'm gone. If there is anything I want to leave behind is a legacy. At least a bit of change in the world. I want to leave people with a better connection and acceptance of each other. That's what I want" And it's true. No matter what color, what religion, what sexual orientation, what political views - we are all equal. Death makes no distinction, none of these things matter when it comes to death, we all die the same way. Our heart stops beating and then Goodbye. And what when we are gone? What is being left behind? A legacy of love, acceptance, and truth, or a legacy of hate and rivalry? One of my mentors said it to me very clearly "A relationship can die physically, but it's worked out well while we are alive, then it will last forever in the spirit. The spirit never dies. If your spirit dies, you may as well die now". Think about it for a second if you must.

"Now, I told you earlier that I would explain why I asked you these questions, right?". Mike (per usual) was the first to answer "You sure did!". It was time to tell them, and if they can know, then you, the reader, can know too.

"A friend of mine" - Someone who is close enough to my heart and far enough from my mind - "is very ill. If she doesn't respond in the next three months to a treatment, she may then be dying" There was a silence, of course. And for a second, I felt like letting my eyes get watery, but I didn't. I got my composure back on and I continued "I feel extremely hopeless because all I want to do is help her and at this point, I'm doing nothing." Sometimes she is so closed up and it's understandable. She is scared. She doesn't want to give up dancing, even though her body may be asking her to do so.