Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: INDEFATIGABLE (02/11/16)
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TITLE: One More Conversation | Previous Challenge Entry
By Angela Linton
02/17/16 -
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My Mom and I lived in a small village until, at the age of nineteen, I decided to leave home. My Mom always said to me, “Sue, when it comes to serving God, no matter where you are, there will always be room for you to do so,” and even though I thought I understood what she meant, I disagreed with her assessment. In fact, I was convinced that it was just like a job opening. That is, when the position is filled, everyone else is turned away and where we were living, all of the positions were filled.
You see, God was calling me to a life of service and our village had a food bank, a thrift store, a soup kitchen and a homeless shelter and they were operated out of two buildings that were next to each other. However, from the time I was a little girl, the voluntary positions at these places were filled by the same people or someone from their family and the same thing was done at our church. Yes, there was the library and on Saturdays, I was there to help, but I wanted more and I sought more. So, after finding a place where I could work and voluntary my time regularly, I decided to leave my home. I went to live with my aunt in the city.
The church that my aunt worshiped at was large and it was involved in many charitable activities. I found soup kitchens and homeless shelters and I volunteered at them. I was happy with my move and secretly, I felt sorry for my Mom because she was wrong about her assessment and because she was losing out by continuing to live in a place where there wasn’t much that she could do for the Lord.
Then came the telephone call which told me that I was motherless, and my aunt and I immediately returned home, to put her body to rest. I didn’t expect many people to turn out for her funeral, but when we got to the house both inside and outside of it was filled with villagers. They had come to comfort me and to tell me of how much they would miss my mother.
They also told me about her kindness to them. Everyone who worked and volunteered at the library told me of how my Mom was always there to babysit for them so that they could go to the library. Then those at the homeless shelter, food bank, thrift store, and the soup kitchen talked about how three times a week she would go looking for those who needed a helping hand and encourage them to come to these places. I also heard many other stories of her kindness and helpfulness towards them. I cried at hearing these things.
On the day that my Mom died, she was out looking for a regular visitor to the soup kitchen because she was not seen there the past three times the kitchen was opened. My Mom found her in a park where homeless people lived. The woman and her estranged husband had reconciled and they were working on finding jobs for both of them. In fact, her husband had left earlier that day for a job interview and just as my Mom was about to leave, the woman’s husband returned. He saw the parcel that my mother had brought, in his wife’s hand, and he became enraged. He yelled at my Mom. He yelled that he and his wife did not want handouts from anyone and in his anger he pushed her. My Mom fell to the ground and hit her head on a rock and she did not regain consciousness.
“Oh, Mom,” I whispered as fresh tears rolled down my moist cheeks and my aunt held me closely in her arms.
The End.
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