They believed in us...

They Believed in Us

A year ago if you had come to me and said that “Charles, you will be a world renowned writer and your words will touch many and you will be one of the best authors known in South Africa" I wouldn't have believed you.  There is something that 'hits' you before you start seeing things in a different light. My light came to me on one Thursday night while I was sitting with my sister at her place.

 I remember earlier that week I had asked her if I could sleep over because it had been a while since the last time I did.  In accord, she picked me up on Thursday, late afternoon.  The trip there wasn't like any other that we have had before.  There, in the car, sat an unimagined silence that I did not understand and by the expression on her face as she looked yonder the windscreen, on the path that led to her domain, she was as baffled as I was of the presence of this silence.  The avid conversation with this silence grew and grew and occasionally was interrupted by the question of hunger and the answer of yes.  We draw closer and closer to the boom gate that signals entry into her court and brave salutations to this silence as with it we will depart when we disembark from the car.  The engine dying from an opposite turn of the key in the ignition commemorates the sonorous sound of the silence that has accompanied us to our destination and now, now I know, we are here.

While our speech was kept at bay, in our minds, well in my mind, the brewing of thoughts never seized...  "Will she be giving me a lecture about something?  Will she tell me, well further affirm that I need a job?  Will she in her, in total ignorance of my answer earlier, ask me again if I'm hungry?  Wait, she has to call my mother and tell her that we have arrived safely, in the notification will she tell my mother that she need not worry she's got me, the situation, under  control?  Hmmmmm, must I eavesdrop on the conversation so that I can gear up for whatever she'll say to me?  No, that would just be too senseless of me to do.  But I'm still wondering why she opted for this day instead of the day that I had requested.  Will she...?  Will SHE...?  I wonder would if she...?  Come now, I need to snap out of "IF"" She opens the door to her humble abode and at the entry of our souls, gratitude of our arrival is embraced and we head into the night.

Getting up for work on Friday was a bit of a charm for her because the headache she's had for the past three days has disappeared.  She leaves her home with me in it, with the  love of her mind that a part of her is left behind. Not more than three hours pass and she calls to say that she is on hear way back because the burden of a bruised mind shell, her headache, has returned.  She rests as I depart to have my day in the world of naught. I decided to stay until stay until Saturday at her place and she was ok with it. 

The silence proves to be a shadow, constantly monitoring our actions and our whereabouts.  When we sleep, it shares with our spirits what life we lead in the day. And in sleep, a new mystery is discovered.

In all these days that I spent with her, there has been one thing that has not eluded me.  She loves me in a way that I may never understand.  She does things for me without asking anything in return.  She prays for me even on days when she knows it is my own doing that I am in a bad space.  She is just unceasing.  Her worth has been epitomized by her actions that are beyond any ovation and she just keeps on getting better.  I say all of this with more conviction than that I can have for my own name.  I know today, more than yesterday, that she is one of the few that have believed in me.  She does this now.  She believes in me.  I may not know if it is a biological obligation, though I reckon it is not, for her to believe so much.  God has a vessel of His hand in my sister and has cells of his mind in my mother because these people believe in me.  These people believe that they see something in me that my worth has not paid respects to.  They have, indeed taken believing to a whole new level in my life.

Everyone in the world has "that person" that ultimately believes in them.  There may be one, two or even three, even more people that believe in you, I am just blessed to have two of them so close to me.  These people believe in us not because in some twisted way, it is beneficiary for them or in so doing they get points for being good people while walking the earth.  I believe that they believe in us to remind us that God exists, that our inspiration and motivation lies not only in our minds or unique characters but in our souls that are in an undocumented way, are intertwined with every other soul on this planet.  In turn, what could be interpreted in what I am saying is that when they believe in you, it gives them the courage, the will, the innate ability, to believe in themselves.  It is not a due that has to be paid for my existence in their lives, but merely circle that we are all part of in life that is divine.