TialovesMJ
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I got this from the KOP board posted by MJTLS. I found this story very touching..here it is :
Excert from Malika Chopra's book 100 Promises To My Baby
One of my closest friends, Grace Rwaramba, shared the following story with me.
Grace had returned to Uganda to visit her mother, who was very sick and dying. Grace knew that it would be the last time she would see her mother, and it was a very emotional trip for the whole family. Grace's mother was a great woman --- a mother to twelve children to an entire community that looked to her for guidance and inspiration. She was the prototypical African matriarch who dominated her environment through her compassion and wisdom.
During the trip home, Grace decided to visit Rwanda, her birthplace, and all the country that her mother considered home. Grace decided to return to the village where her mother had been born and pay respects and honor her mother's spirit. When Grace arrived, she was taken aback by the rampant poverty. She was soon surrounded by swarms of children who wanted to touch her. The children who pulled at her dress had deep, understanding eyes, yet they also yearned to sing and dance in the face of all that they were lacking. Their faces, dark and chiseled, were beautiful, but also aged in an unnatural way. Their bodies were hard, bones exposed, the signes of malnourisment apparent in their stunted growth and the way they walked. But despite all their apparent hardships, the children still laughed and played as they jostled to be in a good position to touch Grace, ask her questions, and beg for some money or new toys.
There was one boy who stood out to Grace. He looked like he was twelve. Unlike the other children who played and begged from her, he asked Grace to come to a corner so he could speak to her in private. As she started to follow him, her driver, who was waiting in a car, spotted her and ran to shoo the boy away, like a stray dog that was causing trouble.
Nonetheless, Grace asked him what he wanted and was surprised when he asked for her dress. The other children laughed and made fun of him. Grace joined the laughter, saying it was not possible to take her clothes off in the middle of the village. As she laughed, the boy's eyes filled with tears, and he ran way, humiliated.
The driver pulled Grace away, saying the children were like flies and she should just ignore their requests. But the boy's hurt eyes haunted Grace, and she could not forget the sound of his pleading voice making such a strange request.
Grace asked the driver to follow the alley down which the child had run away. After searching for a while, they saw him hiding in a corner. Grace got out of the car and called him, but he immediately began to run away. She ran after him down the broken street, by now causing a commotion as others saw her chase him. Soon there was a crowd running after the boy, assuming that he had stolen something. As they snatched him up, the young boys in the crowd began to push him around, until Grace stopped them saying that hte little boy was her friend.
"Why do you want my dress?" Grace asked the little boy. The entire crowd now jeered at him. Quietly, he asked her once more to give it to him, again instigating a cheer of laughter from the crowd. Crace then took him aside and told him that she could meet him tomorrow at a specific time on the same street corner and give him the dress. His eyes silently thanked her.
The next day, Grace came back to the appointed spot, the dress in a plastic bag. As she approached the spot, she saw the little boy curled in a ball, having dozed off while waiting for her. She asked how long he had been waiting, and he replied that he had never left. He did not have a watch, and he did not want to miss her, so he had stayed in that spot until she returned.
As Grace handed him the dress, he quietly said thank you. Once again, she asked, "Why do you want my dress, little boy?"
Assessing her once again, the little boy replied, "My mother is dying, and I would like to bury her in this beautiful dress. Before she got sick, she looked a lot like you, so I thought this dress would be perfect for her to wear when she goes to heaven."
He told her that his mother had the look that his father had right before he died. They both had AIDS, and he knew his mother would die any day now. Grace, swept with emotion, thought about her own mother and how much she shared with this little boy. She began to cry with total abandon and release.
The little boy now hugged her. "Look, Ma'am, don't cry for my mother. She did so many good things in her life. She produced me. I am the eldest of all her children and so it is up to me to take care of her and my brothers and sisters. Just watch me. I will do it. I can do anything. One day, I will be the president and take care of all my people, just like now I take care of my mother and my family."
Grace pulled herself together, bid farewell to the boy, and watched as he trotted along with the plastic bag in his hands. In her heart, she knew that she had met a great boy, a leader who would truly take care of many during his lifetime.
Excert from Malika Chopra's book 100 Promises To My Baby
One of my closest friends, Grace Rwaramba, shared the following story with me.
Grace had returned to Uganda to visit her mother, who was very sick and dying. Grace knew that it would be the last time she would see her mother, and it was a very emotional trip for the whole family. Grace's mother was a great woman --- a mother to twelve children to an entire community that looked to her for guidance and inspiration. She was the prototypical African matriarch who dominated her environment through her compassion and wisdom.
During the trip home, Grace decided to visit Rwanda, her birthplace, and all the country that her mother considered home. Grace decided to return to the village where her mother had been born and pay respects and honor her mother's spirit. When Grace arrived, she was taken aback by the rampant poverty. She was soon surrounded by swarms of children who wanted to touch her. The children who pulled at her dress had deep, understanding eyes, yet they also yearned to sing and dance in the face of all that they were lacking. Their faces, dark and chiseled, were beautiful, but also aged in an unnatural way. Their bodies were hard, bones exposed, the signes of malnourisment apparent in their stunted growth and the way they walked. But despite all their apparent hardships, the children still laughed and played as they jostled to be in a good position to touch Grace, ask her questions, and beg for some money or new toys.
There was one boy who stood out to Grace. He looked like he was twelve. Unlike the other children who played and begged from her, he asked Grace to come to a corner so he could speak to her in private. As she started to follow him, her driver, who was waiting in a car, spotted her and ran to shoo the boy away, like a stray dog that was causing trouble.
Nonetheless, Grace asked him what he wanted and was surprised when he asked for her dress. The other children laughed and made fun of him. Grace joined the laughter, saying it was not possible to take her clothes off in the middle of the village. As she laughed, the boy's eyes filled with tears, and he ran way, humiliated.
The driver pulled Grace away, saying the children were like flies and she should just ignore their requests. But the boy's hurt eyes haunted Grace, and she could not forget the sound of his pleading voice making such a strange request.
Grace asked the driver to follow the alley down which the child had run away. After searching for a while, they saw him hiding in a corner. Grace got out of the car and called him, but he immediately began to run away. She ran after him down the broken street, by now causing a commotion as others saw her chase him. Soon there was a crowd running after the boy, assuming that he had stolen something. As they snatched him up, the young boys in the crowd began to push him around, until Grace stopped them saying that hte little boy was her friend.
"Why do you want my dress?" Grace asked the little boy. The entire crowd now jeered at him. Quietly, he asked her once more to give it to him, again instigating a cheer of laughter from the crowd. Crace then took him aside and told him that she could meet him tomorrow at a specific time on the same street corner and give him the dress. His eyes silently thanked her.
The next day, Grace came back to the appointed spot, the dress in a plastic bag. As she approached the spot, she saw the little boy curled in a ball, having dozed off while waiting for her. She asked how long he had been waiting, and he replied that he had never left. He did not have a watch, and he did not want to miss her, so he had stayed in that spot until she returned.
As Grace handed him the dress, he quietly said thank you. Once again, she asked, "Why do you want my dress, little boy?"
Assessing her once again, the little boy replied, "My mother is dying, and I would like to bury her in this beautiful dress. Before she got sick, she looked a lot like you, so I thought this dress would be perfect for her to wear when she goes to heaven."
He told her that his mother had the look that his father had right before he died. They both had AIDS, and he knew his mother would die any day now. Grace, swept with emotion, thought about her own mother and how much she shared with this little boy. She began to cry with total abandon and release.
The little boy now hugged her. "Look, Ma'am, don't cry for my mother. She did so many good things in her life. She produced me. I am the eldest of all her children and so it is up to me to take care of her and my brothers and sisters. Just watch me. I will do it. I can do anything. One day, I will be the president and take care of all my people, just like now I take care of my mother and my family."
Grace pulled herself together, bid farewell to the boy, and watched as he trotted along with the plastic bag in his hands. In her heart, she knew that she had met a great boy, a leader who would truly take care of many during his lifetime.
