Bites

This piece started out as a poem. Eventually I changed it, as this way gives me more freedom with words so as to rather tell the story instead of dressing it in fancy clothes by forcing it into a poem due to my lack of experience in writing poetry. I could fill a book with what I have experienced during the last number of weeks whilst being busy with a project at a number of schools for mentally and physically handicapped children.

I see her and a number of friends walking in my direction, her bubbly personality very obvious. The joy visible not only in her voice but also in her eyes and in the way she walks. Her friends obviously drinking in every word she says. When they reach me, it is not surprising that she was the one greeting me with a friendly “Good morning sir”, her eyes shining bright while her brilliant smile touched my heart with warmth as I greeted them in return. At that moment I noticed that she had no arms, my heart missed a beat as I saw them walking away, her empty sleeves moving in the wind. A great sadness filled my heart. So much joy in her attitude and smile, yet so much pain in her life because of this handicap. How was this possible? Needless to say that my eyes were filled with tears and I had a lump in my throat.

My ordeal was however not over, much more was to come. When I turned around I couldn’t believe my eyes. Her beautiful face shining with a smile that steals your heart. She was coming down the walkway on a wheelchair, her arms too short to effectively turn the wheels. Behind her a boy was pushing her wheelchair, first on the left, then on the right as he had only one arm to use. His legs deformed in a way that makes it a miracle to walk, let alone help a friend in a wheelchair. I greeted them, my smile a grimace. Their laughter when they greeted me in return tore my heart to pieces. I turned and walked a short distance away to hide my tears from the other children coming down the walkway. This was a mistake.

As I stood under the old Maroela tree, getting my emotions under control I heard a sweet voice, beautiful like that of a Nightingale. I turned around and what I saw behind the tree devastated me. She sat in a wheelchair, her eyes closed, her face serene and relaxed whilst singing a song of praise to God . She had no legs. In my minds eye I could see her dancing and singing before God. I found another isolated spot to stand for a while, my mind in a turmoil.

Four boys were coming down the walkway, two of them on wheelchairs, the other two pushing them at a snails pace as they were hardly able to walk. They were laughing and yelling with joy as they were having a race, their handicap and deformity forgotten.

 

These were a few of my experiences on that painful but blessed day. The bonus was when I had to inspect the pre-school section. Physically and mentally handicapped children greeted me in a chorus, everyone trying to touch me. One little boy had to crawl in order to reach me. They were so glad to see a stranger. Shaking their hands and touching them in return brought laughter and joy to all of us. It was a golden moment to see their happiness because a stranger spent a few precious moments with them. This time I did not even try to hide the tears streaming down my cheeks, it simply didn’t matter any longer.

My eyes had become wise that day, the journey was long and filled with pain. Yet it was a blessing for which I thanked God, as it enriched my life in a way that is indescribable. I have learnt much on that special day.