I’ve just seen a feature of two people, both of them being
blind, but happen to be a couple so deeply in love with each other. Seventeen years
of marriage, and with no kids I must add hasn’t changed a thing between them. What
really attracted my attention though was not their blindness or their love life,
it was their devotion to God. Despite the fact that they couldn’t see a thing,
they didn’t blame anyone, they didn’t ask questions nor did they ever complain.
They thanked God for creating them blind for it led them to one another and
made them even stronger. They might have been blind, but they have seen the
love and sustenance of the lord and have lived to tell the tale. One couldn’t
help shedding tears as they watched them looking at each other unseeingly,
their hearts speaking volumes that their eyes couldn’t. That got me thinking. We
wake up each morning and realize that we can still see, we can talk, we can
walk and above all, we are alive. But has that ever stopped us from bickering? Has
it ever stopped us for blaming God for every little shortfalls and for creating
us with crooked teeth, a slight limp, dark skin and even making us lack in basic
needs? You curse God for letting you walk without shoes, what of those without
feet? To whom will they cry unto? It taught
me a very great lesson on gratefulness and self appreciation. You may not have
much but thank him for that little you have. You have only two pairs of shoes,
some have none. You didn’t have enough to eat, some had none. Be thankful for
every little you get every time you do. It was a lesson I wouldn’t ever get
anywhere else.
I will remember you, motherland I will remember you motherland, when my days are gone. I shall remember the sweet sun that burned bright on our oiled backs, the old sun that decided never to set, to stay and let us play all day. I will remember them, your young men, those we used to play with all day, roll in the dust and fight, love and hate. I shall remember the moments when we believed in life and in love. I shall sing of thee, my motherland, you who suckled us on your old, withered breasts, you who whipped us and took care of our little wounds every day. I will remember you, lovely home, you who condoled with us when we died inside, you who wept with us and smiled with us. I shall leave someday and wander away, for a lion that grows around his father will never roar, and a chick that grows along his father will never get to crow. Chin up, motherland, for here you go unforgotten, here you are, not written with ink but carved with thorns, thistles and sharp stones in my heart. I sha...
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