Broken Strings
Worn out, tired and futile, I looked at my life and thought of all the things that could have been and that should have been.
As I watched through the kaleidoscope of my life, I saw that little girl who was shivering because of the cold, heels cracked no shoes, her lips as white as purity and yet there was nothing pure about her.
She was 9 but has a mental age of 19……
she was 9 but the vile, despicable words that escaped her lips were a façade of the hurt and trouble that gripped her embryonic mind……
Her innocent eyes gazing into my heart begged me like a conspiracy of silence, and without considering the cost I crossed the threshold, despite the cry of help that was shared in the silence.
As the kaleidoscope was turned, I saw that old man who sat outside the gate day in and day out, through the rain and sunshine…..
through the windy and cloudy days……
He just sat there, waiting for me to notice him,
just waiting for me as I strolled past him to give him a slice of bread,
just to give him some water to quench his dry throat,
just to smile and acknowledge him. He just sat there and waited….
As it is turned again I saw that young girl,
rivers of tears streaming down her chubby cheeks, clutching at her belly the baby enclosed screaming to come out, there she was walking down the road oblivious of the cars that were honking at her, drivers screaming obscene and unheard of words to her.
They could have run over her she would not have been bothered much, to her life as she knew it was over, to her all hope was lost, she was a walking yet dead being….
but I didn’t say a word to her, I passed her and didn’t look back, not once… not twice….
I didn’t stop to see where she was going, I didn’t stop to see the car, the man who was crying over her lifeless body begging her to come back to life,
I didn’t see the shattered glass spread like tapestry all over the road, I didn’t see the blood, I didn’t see the baby on the road pushed out by the impact of her mother’s fall, I didn’t see them taking her away to start living a life of endless questions, another lost soul searching for the light.
Through it all, I was there, I was a part of it, I could have made it better but I was so engrossed with my own life. I thought it would be better to draw a veil over all that happened around me.
Worn out, tired and futile, I looked at my life and thought of all the things that could have been, I realized I was given the opportunity to be a part of the bigger picture, to bring hope to a troubled world…
I was an important string in the instrument of life played by the Maker to produce an orchestra of beautiful symphonies and yet along the way I broke.
I broke not because I was overplayed, I broke because as the Master Tuner was tuning me to bring out a clear, clean sound, I wanted my own way, I wanted to bring out my own different sound, I wanted to be the unique set, what I didn’t realise was that in the process I would jeopardise the sound of every other string. I didn’t realise I wasn’t alone, I didn’t realise that I was part of the instrument, a set of the strings, part of the ensemble.
In the process of wanting my own way I broke………I became a broken string
And unfortunately broken strings aren’t fixed, they are replaced.
Listen to your heart, the Maker speaks through you to bring hope to a troubled world….
