Photo by Normanack from flickr.com
At times, we may not get what we wish for because God has better plans in store for us.
by Jamilah Samian
I was about to start breakfast one morning at a restaurant when someone tapped me lightly on the shoulder. I turned around and broke into a smile. It was a lady neighbour whom I haven’t seen for quite a while.
She hugged me warmly, delighted to see me, and so was I. She declined my invite to get her a drink. “I just had a heavy meal,” she said.
“Tell me what you have been up to,” I said as I gestured at the chair next to me. She was a widow, living on her own, and I always like to learn from such people how they survive daily. Life in the city can be very lonely despite one being surrounded by millions.
She was still working at the bookstore of a local school. Not an extraordinary vocation, you might say. Her job entailed taking stock of books and ordering more when they fell short.
Over the years, she got to know thousands of students of the school, teenage boys and girls, and this was where her story took a twist from ordinary to remarkable.
Teenagehood is not an easy period for children, parents, and the teachers who have to meet certain targets at school.
“For some reason, the boys and girls at the school feel comfortable to talk to me. I’m not sure why . . . It’s not that I’m overly nice with them,” she said. Perhaps it’s the way she carried herself that has earned the respect of these students.
Some of the teenagers at the school were plain rude and unruly. Still, “A teacher once remarked that I could reach the boys and girls in a way that other teachers and parents couldn’t.”
Every once in a while, she would find herself listening to a student caught in some kind of situation. Sometimes, something isn’t right at home. Other times, it’s related to school performance or personal matters.
Word spread that she’s one-of-a-kind and more students came up to her for that listening ear, for a shoulder to lean on, for her gentle but firm demeanour and guiding words.
As a result of these free consultations, the teenagers at school started calling her names.
She’s “Mama” or “Ibu” to some, and “Ummi” or “Mak” to many of the rest.
“Even when I meet them outside of school, they will come right up to me to greet me and talk to me,” she said.
She recalled one particular incident. “There was this boy who was in trouble for quite some time. One morning he came to see me and said, ‘Ibu, I’m not going to hurt you or anything. Just do me a favour and turn around.’ I did that, and a moment later, he asked me to face him. To my pleasant surprise, he had brought me a bouquet of beautiful flowers! He was so grateful that I was there to support and hear him out during difficult times.”
Then she paused.
I recalled our last meeting, when she told me that she had to move on after her husband passed away. “It’s fun to have grown-up kids like you,” she had said. “They come and visit on weekends. It’s smiles and laughter all around. But I don’t have that.”
I guess she might be recounting the same thing, because the next thing she said was: “You know, I think I know now why God didn’t give me any children,” she beamed. “It’s because He wanted me to have so many of them later in life.”
Her parting words made me smile.
Sometimes we wish for things that we think will make us happy and feel complete. Having our own children is one of them. It seems so natural once you are married to start thinking of having children.
If you didn’t conceive year after year, there might be moments of longing followed by prolonged despair.
Seeing other people raise their own children over the years while you and your spouse only have one another for company might make you feel like a failure. Yet God The Supreme might have greater and better plans in store for you. And who better to reveal it at the best time than He Himself?
[ends]