No, not the Bible book.
Something I realised today.
This evening actually.
Mom phoned, inviting me to coffee tomorrow after my stint at the unemployment offices in the morning.
Told me she was already in bed, finishing off the jersey she’s inherited from my sister’s late mother in law. Mom thinks it would look good if she got little pink bows or buttons or something to liven up the jersey with, and to give it to a young girl she’s gotten to know through the church,
A young girl who’s mother passed away not too long ago. A young girl that’s now left to her own devices, a brother that’s just finished matric, and a father that’s an alcoholic. A young girl that’s never known about enough. Who’s mother brought in an income by looking after the cars at the church during services and big functions. A mother that was so proud of her childresn, and tried to make a better life for them. A young girl that might never get out of the miasma that she was born into.
And I had a revelation.
How unbearably lucky I was to have parents that loved me. That gave me everything I needed and more. That taught me right from wrong. That gave me values. Maybe even spoilt me a little.
How incredibly blessed I actually am. Here I am, in a house of my own. With my own car. 2 beautiful boys that is the pride of my existence. I have my intelligence, my capabilities. I have the ability to create. To read. To write.
I have no illnesses.
Access to the www.
I know the difference between right and wrong.
I was given a chance in life. And hopefully I’ll be given another one.
As long as I realise that I am indeed blessed.
I would do well to remember that.