Madam Jane, you lived to witness the pain of motherless children. You took the responsibility and filled the missing 'mum' gap in these children's lives. Above all, you remembered to use the rod lest you spoil them children. Your encounter with Steve was one I'll live to remember.
Do you remember him? He was in fifth grade when you joined his school as an English teacher. He was the most silent, gloomy and careless boy in class. He sat at the furthest corner near the window that faced the school fence, beyond which there was a street. He was absent-minded in most of the classes, always looking outside the window in deep thought. Occasionally he would be sleeping during classes and especially the ones he considered boring.
The day you came for your first lesson, he was as silent as usual. You seemed not to have noticed him sleeping when you got the class reading a storybook, one paragraph per student. You know, you were the first teacher not to have bothered with trying to get him to concentrate in class; most other teachers would scold him while others would send him out of the class. Other teachers would complain about his results which had started to dwindle since he was in second grade. It didn't make any sense how he could go from being the brightest kid in class to being the dumbest. You didn't seem to care...how couldn't you?
When you left the class that day, he smiles for the very first time and kept doing so for the longest time every time you came to class. Something about you made him, and every one in that class, love you to the brim. You became everyone's favorite in class, remember? You were both lovely and loving.
I remember your birthday, Madam Jane. That day we all brought gifts for you. It was a big day. We sang 'happy birthday' to you, made song and poem presentations and even had you cut a big cake. I have to say, it was the best cake I ever ate, I wonder who made it.
Steve brought the smallest gift. Everyone laughed at him and he cried. It was a perfume that was a quarter full. He said it suited you because you resembled his mum who had passed on when he was in grade 2. He sobbed and cried hard that day, and you held him in your arms like he was your own. I remember your words, “It’s okay child I'm here for you, you can let it all out." I hadn't heard any mum say that to any kid before yet you said it to one who wasn't even your own, what a woman you were!
You took charge of him ever since. Giving him motherly emotional assurance, a shoulder to lean on and you took his hands in life and led him on. The lunches you brought him were always the best; he would let us have a taste every now and then.
I remember how under your watch and care he became lively once again; he got back to being a playful child with a jolly-go-lucky mood, his grades improved so drastically; he was restored to his former self.
He is a doctor now. A big picture of you hangs on a wall in his mansion house and he talks about you every single day.
He may have been a spoilt child, Madam Jane, but you used the rod on him. You didn't use the rod to beat the hell out of him...Nooo; you took the rod in your hands as a sign of authority and got him to follow your lead all the way to greatness. In love and tenderness, you did it.
You demonstrated something 99% of parents do not comprehend. Parents don’t understand how to lead in love, they don't know when to watch and say nothing, they don't know the right time to act neither do they know how, it's chaos up here in the world today. Am glad I got to witness that kind of love and wisdom, it has been handy in many a situation.
Next year we will have our second born child, it will be a girl. We will name her after you, Jane; she will be named Jane Sanders. I pray she will look like her daddy, Steve, and take after your goodness. I hope she has your blessing.
As for my husband Steve and I, you will forever live in our hearts. You will forever be our mum, our foundation and our most adored. Rest in peace mama, we love you.
You died, you all died in war so we can have peace. Our soldiers, how great a love to faithfully stand up to a fight so that a million strangers may live in peace! Every time I play Bruno Mars's song
"I'd catch a grenade for you...”
I do it in your honor.
Love is not love unless it is freely given. This is what makes love to be the greatest risk any man will ever take. Unless we give the person we love the freedom to love back, love ceases to be love and becomes slavery. The risk in loving is the freedom we give.
You took this risk. Like Jesus, you demonstrated love by your deaths. I lack words to explain my new understanding of love. I lack the right vocabularies to clearly elaborate the fullness of its meaning. How does one die for a country, for people who may never get to know you or appreciate your sacrifice?!
I think parents understand.
I'm willing to take the risk. I'm going to give my family, friends, colleagues and country that freedom. I'm going to take the risk and love as you did, as Jesus did. It may make a difference; it may make me understand this kind of love at a deeper personal level. I will, I will take the risk.
The love you have shown me is the love I now choose to give. After all, love is a choice. I will start by taking care of the ones you left behind in my care, my soldiers. I will reach to as many as I can.
We honor your sacrifice; your sacrifice is forever engraved in our hearts.
Some people condemn others of their early sexual encounters. They do this because they claim to have managed to stay virgins for the long they have. Are they Justified or is it that they lacked the chance to execute that which they condemn others for?!
After I was raped, I lived for long with low self esteem. Topics to do with love, marriage and virtues depressed me and made me feel worthless. After some months of isolation, I made a friend. One who changed my view of life and myself. She didn't live long but she lived enough to watch me grow out of my cocoon into the lady I am today. Her name was Purity Pitch.
Purity is the one thing we all want others to perceive in us. Our actions have to be modest, acceptable and admirable. Our conduct is most often dictated by the people around us. Not with Pitch.
Pitch was my friend. She liked talking about life and its uniqueness in each individual. She was the definition of sincere optimism and witty thoughtfulness. One of the things I remember most about her was the thought she once shared with me, VIRGINITY.
Yes, the V word. Maybe you have never physically got intimate with a woman or a man, maybe it was just a smooch, a kiss or a romantic cuddly night. Maybe you have done all these and more. Does it really matter? Here is the thing: VIRGINITY IS JUST NOT ENOUGH.
We have done as much as we have thought, the only difference is that there are no witnesses for the things we do in our thoughts other than the Lord and ourselves. We defile ourselves when we entertain thoughts that we can't confidently execute. These thoughts are not independent, they are nurtured through every scene we watch, places we go and words we hear.
This implies that in our words and actions, we feed others either for good or bad. It also means that the kind of people and things we allow in our lives affect the purity of our thoughts by influencing us towards a certain direction. The movies we watch, the music we listen to, the people we surround ourselves with...
It's not just the hymen; it’s not just the masculine newness. It’s the full package that gives meaning to virginity and virgins. WITHOUT PURITY, VIRGINITY LOOSES ITS VALUE. Our thoughts soon become our words, then actions, traits and eventually character; all of which define one's purity.
VIRGINITY IS A LIFE DECISION, it is the choices we make on a daily basis. It is the choice to avoid bad influence and to be a good influence. Virginity is a subset of purity without which its value is equal to vanity of vanities; a good surface beneath which is an undesirable character.
Whether it was rape, a bad decision for premarital sex, peer influence, whether you are still physically a virgin...whatever it is. As long as you are still alive, you have a chance to choose again. You can choose Purity and add value to your physical virginity; you can choose purity and exalt your secondary physical virginity. Virginity is character, it is a way of life, and it is getting intimate within the right a marital context.
Virginity is gone in a night but purity lives to testify to your strength of thought for eternity.
I will remember you Pitch, not because you were perfect but because you gave me insight, you gave me hope; One that every man and woman out there needs to have and to give. We need not condemn our past or exalt our innocence. Stop the pretending, set aside the pointing of fingers, take pride in being a PURE VIRGIN, let your character speak for you.
3 o'clock in the evening, a man hurriedly walks along a passage between the shops, along the pathway and into the street. Soon the street was crowded with no trace of any one particular person. Afterall, the street wasn't meant to sustain legacies.
But this man, he lingered in my mind as though I had just recorded history; my history. Never before had I seen him.His steps were hurried, unsteady yet objective, the red shirt and white trousers he wore could make do for a flag; it flew as the wind dictated, his shoes were a clear indication of the scotching sun and dusty weather. His face...his eyes were the most calm, inviting, tender and jolly; such a great contrast from my expectations. This was what kept me mentally stuck on his image, what kind of a man is this? who is he? C'mon Bee, what is wrong with me? Why the hell is this man so in my mind? Psst! there is nothing about him worth pondering on anyway?...On and on my mind went.
"Hey," my colleague called, "you are going to bring losses to this business. Gotta keep watch for the customers not the fantasies." I was selling at a local groceries shop to raise money for my tuition. With economic instability and rising cost of living, I couldn't rely on my parents for all-and-nothing. I mean, they just had a duty to be fruitfull and fill the earth, my job was to figure out my way through the life-street to the grave. But this man...
After 3 years.The money I had saved up from my salary at the shop was enough to get me through college. What a joy!! I travelled 10 miles home, took a week packing and finally I was set for schooling; give it my best, make a life, live the life and have my happy ever after.
It am 3 years old in college. Today, I am just from my favorite lecture in which I couldn't concentrate. I am sausade about something that I can't quite point out.So I drag my feet to the nearest bench and slump onto it. My head feels hazy, my feet are heavy, my body feels detached from myself, I'm hungry...
I gather the last energy resorts I have so I can try and manage this unexplainable situation am in. So I look up, maybe I'll see a friend and call for help, how I hope my best of friends is somewhere around looking for me too. I hope I won't pass out any soon. I raise my now lidded eyes and here he is reaching out to me, for me. It is him, that man, the man I saw at the shop, followed him with my eyes through the pathway and into the streets. It is him reaching out to me and, I hope, to my life too. I feel all weak, maybe I will be out soon but I can tell that I am being carried in hurried, unsteady yet objective steps. I see hope. That man...
Naomy Rotich, a woman so great and lovely beyond any possible descriptions. She was born1960, raised and natured by humble parents in a simple neighbourhood and eventually became a reknowned nurse impacting lives wherever her hands touched.
I was young when she took me into her care. My family was very unstable; with a dad who was ever drunk and a mum struggling to make ends meet, the future seemed bleak for my siblings and I but God sent an angel our way; Naomy. She came to the rescue, taking my siblings and I into her care. She was lovely, treating us like one of her own, giving us every attention a mother gives her own yet in a manner so natural and effortless that we literally became her own.
I remember you mum, I think about you every single day. I'm all grown up now and am back to living with my parents but I will be moving out soon. Whenever I call my mother 'mum', sometimes I think I've used the right name on the wrong person; cuz you were a mother like none, with a unique touch on the person that I am.
She was a devoted nurse, she would wake up early and come in late. Sometimes, our neighbours would come knocking on ours doors for help especially expectant women who were due but would not make it to hospital in time. She would be glad, she would say," come in, lets get us a baby.". With love and compassion she did her works and impacted the world both within and without.
She raised four well-mannnered children, all who became very successful. She made the local hospital a comfortable place to visit whenever one was unwell, she united the women within the village and by her virtues she made her husband a respectable man.
I am the woman I am today; strong, hardworking, socially-impacting, loving and loveable, because of her influence. I take pride in associating with awesome siblings all thanks to her affectionate motherhood. Our village is reputable and united due to the woman that she was.
She died a 50. I could say she died empty; having exhausted all that she was, having used all her gifts in life. She is a memorable lady. "You demonstrated love at its purest, we celebrated you in life and you still are a celebrated life our lovely mum Noamy.".
You died, you all died in war so we can have peace. Our soldiers, how…
Madam Jane, you lived to witness the pain of motherless children. You took the responsibility…
I will remember you Pitch, not because you were perfect but because you gave me…
3 o'clock in the evening, a man hurriedly walks along a passage between the shops,…
Naomy Rotich, a woman so great and lovely beyond any possible descriptions. She was born…