I’ve only read it in the Bible, read that people give up their lives for what they believe in. Christ did it and so did the apostles and He commands we do same.
I never thought I would one day defend my belief, though like Paul said, “I’ve had it in mind.”
It was on my mind till that second I faced death. It was my choice anyway.
“Give up one of them or you die.”
What the hell!
I was entrusted with these children, all seven of them looked up to me.
Their parents at home believed in me and I know God would be watching too. Their faces spelt extreme peace, one of them was even munching on ‘cheese balls’. If they were afraid of the kidnapper’s gun, I wouldn’t know.
They were just little pre-nursery children in my class. The oldest was just three years old and as if on cue they all fell silent and stood behind me.
Nothing would happen to these ones. Not on my watch! One look at their faces helped me to make up my mind and I faced the intruder with all the faith in me.
“No way, you’ll have to take me out first.”
He smiled at my answer and nodded, “Then you will take the shot meant for her.”
It rang out and I saw it clearly, saw it come straight for my belly and for a moment I finally understood what pain was. He smiled again and left the classroom.
I suddenly felt numb as he left, my clothes were getting soaked. I couldn’t hold on to stability anymore and as I lay on the floor, their little hands touching me gave me strength but only for a moment; to be strong enough to slip into unconsciousness.
This is me now looking at myself in the mirror. The surgery went well and they got the bullet out, but it had damaged my womb as the doctors said.
I traced the stitch on my belly, I may never carry my own child.
I wiped the tears off, this would be the 105th tear since the operation. I’m pained at that, but it was a choice I made; to save a child and loose mine.
Their parents’ ‘thank-you’ will never be enough to curb the ache in my heart. I covered myself up and left the mirror.
I have children I told myself, as much as I want them. In church, in school, in the orphanage, even on the streets, and in class, I have an extra three. They were enrolled in my school when their parents heard what I did for one of my pupil.
Since I can’t have mine,
Let them go to other barren women,
Let them bear my kids for me.
And the day I’ll see them,
I pray to see me in their faces,
Let me see the resemblance,
And know I was meant to be their mother.