Of Signs and Tests!
I can’t kick out someone who comes knocking on the door asking for some help. I don’t know whether that was my haggard face (with cold), disheveled hair, disorientation from the last night’s blast or the simplicity written across my face. I couldn’t say no. And I knew she had gauged me. She said she was from some orphanage in Mardan, running by some ex principle of Frontier College and that she too grew up in the orphanage. Someone left her when she was just five months old. Poignant!
So…? I asked her.
Anything you can help us with. Then she kicked off heavy-on-ears, crammed debate about the orphans, hell and heaven.
Is this is a sign or a test? I was lost in a deep thought. I run away from such sermons. Has devil taken over me that I can’t tolerate such talks? I wanted her to cut it out and come to the point.
She did stop (perhaps seeing me absorbed in boredom from head to toe). I gave! She left. Before she left, I asked her about the kiddo with a runny nose she was holding. “Is he your…?”
“Oh no, he is from the orphanage too.” She said smiling.
Before she left she prayed. It was moving. Because somewhere I yearn for it… somewhere I fear God and knowing that if she was a crook, I wouldn’t care for my intention was good.
A few lines…
Like every year
Would you remember that day this year?
I know you have an evil memory
I know you always remembered
Like I did unintentionally
Marking the day on my calendar
Making silent wishes
In the name of a relationship
We had once…