Boxes

I picked her up and put her on my knee. Little Suzie, I wish I could make her feel better, but how can you make a five year old feel better about the fact that it's just the way it is. Little Suzie. So I picked her up and held her close. I whispered a little prayer in her ears hoping that her little five year old heart will be ok.

I wrapped Jesus in the box today! she screamed excitedly. I lifted my eyebrows and turned to her. Really? I asked. But Jesus is so big. No not all of Jesus, just His hug. I laughed. Nice. So what are you going to do with it? I asked. Give it to Sandy she exclaimed. I nodded. Ok.

I saw her face when she came back from pre-school today. My little Suzie had tears in her eyes. I knelt down to look at her. The little one whispered. I found it in the dustbin. Found what? I asked. The little box I gave Sandy she sobbed. I looked at her little face. And are you sad you found it in the dustbin? She nodded. Why? I asked. She sobbed so hard I could not hear what she was saying. So I picked her up. Little Suzie.

I wrapped Jesus in the box today! she screamed excitedly. I turned and looked at her. Really? I laughed. So what are you going to do with it? I asked. Give it to Marcia, she exclaimed. I nodded. Ok.

I saw her face when she came back from pre-school today. My little Suzie had tears in her eyes. I knelt down to look at her. The little one whispered. She told me the it was pretty, but she didn't want it. Want what? I asked. The little box, that little box I gave her. she sobbed. I looked at her little face. And are you sad she didn't want it? She nodded. Why? I asked. She sobbed so hard I could not hear what she was saying. So I picked her up. Little Suzie.

We took a walk in the park today and I asked her why she was sad when Sandy threw away the box. She told me Sandy's mum was sick, and so everytime she came home from school, her mummy wasn't there to hug her. And so when Jesus hugged her, she asked Jesus if she could wrap it up and give it to Sandy. But she didn't want it, and she'll never know how it feels like to be hugged. I nodded quietly pondering upon the little girl's heart. I smiled at her as she looked up at me. She whispered, I can always give her more, my wadrobe is full of boxes of hugs from Jesus! I nodded. ok.

What if I can wrap God's love in a box and give it to everyone I know?

No Sammie honey, you're not five....

So?

Don't know...

Hey, Jesus just hugged me...

Ok. Ok. Ok.

The hardest part

He stared at their faces and looked at them one by one. The pain, no one will be able to know. No one. His hands hurt. His head. His heart. Trampled upon, it felt like. Thud Crash. Pieces. He walked past them as he walked out to that place. This is it guys, do you see, do you understand. This is it. Father take this cup from me.......actually, let your will be done. I saw his tears. Thud Crash pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

She stared at her son on the cross....thud...crash....

pieces. Broken glass on the floor. Mary, dear Mary, let go, let go.

She had always felt feelings like that. Since she was a little girl. Thud Crash. Pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

She looked up. Her chest felt a little sour, a little bitter, and very much like something was tugging on it so hard. Heavy, and it ached. The little four year old, her heart, her heart. It ached. It was her favourite doll! And she was on the plane now. Too late. She should not have put it down at all. She should not have taken it out of mum's bag.She wanted to scream at mum for letting her take it out. Mum always puts things back, why hasn't she this time? I saw the tears well up in her sweet little eyes. Let go dear Sarah, let go. The little four year old, her heart, her heart.

She had always felt feelings like that. Since she was a little girl. Thud. Crash. Pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

Just last week, grandma had a fall. She still winces whenever she thought of it. They were out, and grandma had to go to the bathroom, so she did. She slided, slipped and fell. She hit her head, grandma, hit her head. She seemed alright. But then she seemed alright before she got sick too. The little eight year old, her heart, her heart. I saw the tears in her eyes as she ran up to her grandma and stroked her head where it bruised, where it bled. They didn't think she understood. But she did. Grandma fell, and she couldn't help it. It was like, almost like, the moment was gone, and it happened, and the little girl she stood there numbed, helpless wishing she could take grandma back to the time before she fell. She didn't want anything to happen to grandma. She didn't. But it did. Tears stream...Let go dear Sarah, let go. The little eight year old, her heart, her heart.

She had always felt feelings like that. Since she was a little girl. Thud. Crash. Pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

The little eight year old, her heart, her heart. I saw the tears in her eyes as she looked at her grandma. She loved her grandma to bits. The stories of how she survived during the war, and how she was smuggled and hid. How she escaped. There was this story she told once, of this huge punjabi man outside a club stopping the locals from getting in, because it's an english club. Whites only, whites only. And that time where grandma bought a bag of oranges and opened them one by one just for her. Sarah, sweet sarah, her eyes teared up as she stared at her grandma. Her cousin came up behind her and held her little hand, took her to the front of the room where grandma's picture, was displayed. Look at her here, when she's smiling eh? Sarah, sweet sarah, don't you cry. She sneaked back to the front of the coffin and peered in again. Grandma was gone, forever. Tears stream....Let go dear Sarah, let go. The little eight year old, her heart, her heart.

She had always felt feelings like that. Since she was a little girl. Thud. Crash. Pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

Her sour heart, aching a little, she could not understand. She held Anna close. The little girl. She remembered the times where little Anna would break into song "dwingle dwingle litwel star, how i wonder wat you arrrr". Tears stream down Sarah's face. Sarah dear Sarah. I saw tears in her eyes as she looked down at dear Anna. She remembered the sweet girl, ever so sweet. The dear wee girl hardly cried. Hardly, such a bundle of joy. The blood soaked through her t-shirt, but she wouldn't budge. Let go dear Sarah, let go. Anna, lost for good. Let go my dear Sarah, let go....The little seventeen year old, her heart, her heart.

She had always felt feelings like that. Since she was a little girl Thud Crash Pieces. Broken glass on the floor.

And yet today, she could not understand. The feelings she had always felt, she had known. Familiar. Thud. Crash. Pieces. Broken glass on the floor. He stared blankly at her, as he walked past. He did not love her anymore. Probably never did. He walked past her, trampling upon the broken pieces as she winced and squirmed, half in pain, half in disbelief. Dear Sarah. I saw you cry. Let go dear Sarah, let go.Are you a sad wee girl Sarah? Let go my wee one, let go. The little twenty four year old. her hand. her head. her heart. her heart.

She had always felt feelings like that. since she was a little girl...thud, crash...pieces, broken glass on the floor. pieces, broken glass on the floor.

Mary dear Mary, let go, let go. For it is only temporary.....it is only temporary. Mary looked up, but still? Broken pieces on the floor.............

The carrot tree

The cat shat under the carrot tree today. No, I know carrots don't grow on trees, but honestly if you've been to this part of the world, you will believe me. This was a carrot tree. Definitely. A carrot tree that bore carrot fruit. Who said carrots were roots? Honestly, this was a carrot tree, that bore carrot fruits.

I am not a carrot fan, not. I hate carrots. The only reason why I have carrots was because my mum tells me they are good for the eyes. Maybe that's why I have glasses as thick as the bible! The bible. There was a time I only read it because I had to be christian like. So many damn things I did just to be christianlike. Christians, those self-righteous hollow men that did things in a "christianlike" manner just because. And then stand and looked and talked at others in a condescending manner as if people would genuinely be moved. What happened to belief? What happened to passion? What happened to love?

I sat across the road from the white building today. I sat and stared. The white ruins that were once a building.So glorious, pride of its people, once inviting, now hollow, empty, why? because it closed its doors. I sat and remembered the times I was suffocated while listening to that pretentious bald robed man talk about love, and then closed the doors after church, refusing to let anyone near it during the week for fear of its sacraments getting stolen. I sat and stared across the road at that white ruin. No life. What happened to belief? What happened to passion? What happened to love?

Left the building, left the church. It's empty and hollow.

I sat across the road and saw in its windows my reflection. The very same nauseating feeling that overwhelmed me that day began to creep over me again. No one came to this town anymore. Every single train passed it by. I was so sick of being a part of an empty building, i felt like vomitting. A permanent fixture that did nothing. Gosh. LIke the church, a permanent fixture that did nothing but stand, as if a glamorous sight, as if its presence were a favour.

The old man, sat, and life had passed him by, what had he done? what had he done? He sighs as closed his eyes for the final time. The old man, was buried under the carrot tree.

I walked around the carrot tree and wondered.

The cat walked around me and shat under the carrot tree. The cat shat under the carrot tree.