Helpers : Angels we Meet
I was walking tiredly down the street under the heat of day and just when I got midway, I blindly kicked my left foot against a stone as hard as a rock. And the pain rode right through my spine and shifted my strength out of place.
Fallen to the ground, I curled up myself in total weakness as I rubbed over my foot. The skin on my foot had torn apart and I gently turned around, screaming for help but everyone walked away.
An ocean nearly dropped off my eyes when I saw a lady, dressed in plain linen, loudly chuckling and pointing at me. Then, the ocean in my teary eyes dropped down the moment she called twenty others; the sound of their laugh deeply killed me.
Weeping sore, I wished for a shoulder to lean on and a hand to stroke my blonde hair but there I was, trapped in my own trauma.
It took me two long years to flick the dust of pain off my soul.
April 17th was the day I walked through the same street and saw what made me squeeze my brows. I saw the same lady trapped in the beach; she was about to drown. I knew I could swim but damn! She deserved to die.
I took my eyes off her struggling arms and walked away but when I turned back again, I couldn't watch her drown. I knew how to swim but Susan?
I fought my guts for ten seconds before I hurriedly slung off my shoes, pulled off my jacket and ran into the beach. Swimming into the freezing water, I swiftly held her arms and pulled her to the shores through the strong waves of the sea.
Heavily panting, she looked at me with a face full of guilt and said, "Thank you. Thank you so much. You have a good heart."
When I saw drops of tears flowing down her eyes, I stroked her hair and calmly spoke back in the wetness of her dress.
" Susan, " I called her in tears and continued, "you never gave me your shoulders when I was down. You hurt me in the past. I had an opportunity to let you drown in that beach but I chose to save you. I don't have so much time to spend with you. Next time, don't laugh at a man who is suffering in life. You may be having a good life but don't mock a man going through tough times. The truth is, you can't tell the fate of any man neither can you tell your own fate tomorrow. You announced my failure to the world and joined them to laugh at me; tell me, do you really deserve my kindness now? Next time, Susan, next time, don't mock a man fallen to the ground because he may not have my kind of heart. He may let you die in your share of karma. Next time Susan, cover his shame, help him if you can and say words of inspiration to give him a sense of hope. If you can't, please, let him be. Don't add to his sorrow."
She was sniffling into her chest after my last word and I left her by the shores till moonlight brightly shone.
Thank you so much for stopping by.
Happy Sunday to you,
Keep visiting my blog.
They say risk only comes from not knowing what you are doing.