Everyone we meet has a story to tell. A story about their life experiences, their beliefs, their aspirations and motivations. Every now and then, when we take the time to pause and engage, some of these people will tell us their stories. Either through conversation or simple observation, we can see and hear their story, and learn from it. Their stories have the power to transform our lives. They can motivate and teach us to be different, to be better, and to strive further.  

One of the most poignant examples of this in my life is when I met Arcardio Linares. How I came about meeting Arcadio was an interesting story in itself. But, who I met and the story he possessed was vastly more interesting. I have written about Arcadio in the past. (The Man with the View Part One & Part Two). But, his story is so remarkable, it’s worth writing about again.  

When I met Arcadio, he was 89 years old. For the 20+ years prior to meeting him, he had been bedridden on a wooden cot with a small mattress in the corner of his 500-square-foot, two-room home in the mountains of Colombia, where he lived with his devoted wife.  

I was in Colombia on a medical mission trip. I had been asked to make a house call to Arcadio to see if I could help him. It turns out, my visit, in God’s providence, had nothing to do with me helping him. 

Rather, it had everything to do with him helping me gain better perspective on life. And how we should respond to tough situations. 

It is no exaggeration that meeting Arcadio, and then visiting him again a couple of years later, has had a lasting impact on my life that I am still fully recognizing.  

Arcadio’s story is full of tragedy. He watched his two sons gunned down by rebels. He himself, trying to escape the same rebels, ended up breaking both of his legs and back in a tragic fall. This confined him to a bed for the last 20+ years. With proper medical care, he could have likely had a full recovery.  Sadly instead, he lays supine on a 3-inch mattress that covers a piece of plywood, never having the opportunity to view the beautiful vistas of the mountain side just outside his door.  

Yet, he smiles.  

This is where Arcadio began to teach me about perspective. In our first meeting, I wracked my brain for ways I could “fix” him. Ways I could improve his physical condition. During this process, I realized it was only from my fraught perspective that any fixing was necessary. 

From his perspective, things could be no better. He was smiling because he was happy, fulfilled, and content. Despite the discomfort. Despite the physical limitations. Despite all that he was “missing.” Arcadio focused on what he had. 

What he had was family and friends that loved him and who were devoted to him. What he had was an intimate, loving, and joyful relationship with God. He did not speak of his pain or frustration in his situation. He spoke of feeling the presence of God with him daily in that very room. 

Perspective.  

I met Arcadio a second time about a year and a half after our first visit. By then, he was 91. His memory was not quite as good.  His energy was slightly less. 

His smile…remained. 

This time I used our time together to encourage him and tell him about the profound impact he made on my life. And I used the rest of my time that visit to glean from him. What else could this 91-year-old man teach me?

He spoke of courage and the importance of standing up for what you believe in, regardless of the consequences.  

He spoke of the importance of serving others and demonstrating the love of Christ.

And, he spoke of the power of a smile. Arcadio smiles on purpose. His smile is a response to the faithfulness of God. In his own words:

“No one will ever see me with a bad look on my face. They will only see joy and happiness. God has done too much for me and means too much to me to represent Him any other way.”

Aracadio’s life tells a story, and what a splendid story it is. To have had the opportunity to travel to the mountains of Colombia, hear his story, and allow it to impact my life is one of the greatest honors and blessings I’ve experienced.