LITTLE EFFORTS MIRACLES

LITTLE EFFORTS MIRACLES

Josephat S. Hema

It was heavily raining, and so we were running, those times just after school hours. I carried a cotton bag and so I had to rush home so that my School books wouldn’t get wet, my thoughts were specifically concerned on the new novel a friend gave me that I had to keep it with all that I could. As I was rushing so fast I put my bag on my chest and fold my hands to protect it from the heavy and stormy rain that came unnoticeably. We then were looking for a place to hide for a while to let it cool a bit. As I jumped over the road side stream of water I saw a woman struggling to push a stuck wheelbarrow from a pond of water, she was wet as well. I happened to think of how helpless was everyone around, how inconsiderate we were. Everyone, even the stronger people I saw were busy taking care of their own things and let the woman struggle alone in the rain. I stopped and reached the wheelbarrow so fast and pushed it with the little effort. It got unstuck from the muddy pond and in fact over the big stone. I pushed it to the nearby tent and stopped there, looking back to see the old woman coming my way,smiling. She thanked me greatly and never ceased to smile and look on my face, she spoke all the words of blessings she could remember. It took me few seconds to learn that she was coming from a milling machine to prepare maize flour for her grandchildren and that it was the last maize grain she had in store. Letting it wet would mean spoilage and hence a hopeless new search for food. I also learned on the old fashioned wheelbarrow she had, with all punctured tires, turning back to see her unceasingly smiling.

”So where are your grandchildren Bibi?”I asked

“They all went to School, and so I was rushing to prepare a meal for them, they didn’t eat when they were leaving for School, the oldest is Subira,he is your age “she answered, still smiling. I resisted my tears.Subira was the boy who gave me the new novel which I just knew for sure it already got wet inside my bag.

The rain had decreased to the safe level, and so we had to resume our journeys back home. As she was taking the other way home, I turned my face so fast so that she wouldn’t see my falling few drops of watery fluids from my eyes. Learning that it just happened the whole family was saved that night through that incidence. How many times do we think that we have more important things to take of and don’t even offer the little efforts that could make a great impacts and leave people smiling so widely? I can’t really explain what I felt that evening. As I reached home and saw my mother confidently cooking my best food, I greeted and went straight to a boys room, threw my bag away and sat on a bed for while trying to think of the incidence. I then remembered of the wet bag of mine so I reached it back to see how much my books and Subira’s novel got wet.

None did.