The quiet cup of tea

This cup of tea was significant for me. Of course I do not think that this ‘significance’ went the other way. I would have been a dim recollection in Audrey Hepburn’s memory.

It was 1992, It was at the Munich Film Festival. Audrey Hepburn had attended to promote her Good Will Ambassadorship for UNICEF. She was inspiring, suffering from cancer and clearly frail.

I was working as a news cameraman. The various TV crews had each booked an interview. We were last. (we were always last in the pecking order.)

After the many interviews, she was visibly tired. Depleted. She was advised to rest and offered a cup of tea. She then invited me to join her. That in itself was an awkward decision, because I felt like I was taking advantage of her graciousness. She insisted with these remarkable words, “You must always appreciate the moment. Please join me.”

With the utmost honesty, those 10 minutes were significant for that alone. How many times per day do I forget that?

She asked about me, my family.
At the time, my son Lukas wasn’t yet two years old, so I beamed joyful anecdotes of this 'new being that had changed my life'. I rattled on about Fatherhood & Responsibility, and his infectious giggle.


Of course I could sense her frustration that her time was nearly gone, that her body had been sapped of vigor, and considering that… and because of that… and in spite of that… maybe… maybe I sensed that this moment… this moment in time that she was choosing to spend with me… was a human moment. Maybe I sensed the importance and significance of that?

10 minutes later, I was back in the bustling crowd.