The blessed child

The room lit up when she entered. Everyone turned around to look at her. A cheerful T-shirt hung loosely from her bony frame, a shadow of her former self. She has cropped her hair short to make it easier to manage and the wispy strands accentuate the sharpness of her chin. The dark shadows that encircled her eyes, belied the ordeal that she had gone through. The colour on the face has gone, but the smile has not.

He stood up from where he was sitting to help her to her seat. Her chidren seemed to understand that their mother is sick, and played on their own without disturbing her. Several baskets of fruits and flowers lay on one end of the room, well-wishes from her boss and friends.

The phone rang. Uncle called to ask after her. A message arrived. Cousin has confirmed her appointment with the specialist.

The family had rallied together when they heard the news. They had become more united because of her. They scheduled themselves so that there will always be someone with her round the clock. Her chidren were well-taken care of, the hospital has promised to help with the bills, her boss assured her that she will be welcome back anytime when she is ready.

She had been the chosen one to learn this lesson, a great trial that tested her spirit and her faith. She will survive the trial and she will grow stronger after the test. She had been called to go through this, so that she can help the next person who has to undergo such sufferings