This is Not a Fairy Tale
Page 15
What happened next is not what is classically termed a happy ending.
If this was a Hollywood film, the last scene would have us dancing around a fire with all of our friends, celebrating our joyous marriage under the full African moon.
There have been many such celebrations, and in some way, all were mine. Chris’ and mine, even though he was not there to share them.
Later that day, when he was returning to camp, the helicopter suffered an engine failure and crashed into the Nile. There were no survivors.
Sometimes I wonder if I imagined our love, so brief and yet so true. But over the years, I have learned to listen to the signs, and to this moment, twenty years on, not a day goes by without a glimpse of my angel. Sometimes it is just his voice in my head, when I need most to hear him. At other times, I see his face in the reflection of the river, or hear a fragment of music that reminds me of him.
I have been lucky enough to have found a different kind of love, the love of service to others, and in doing so, have been blessed with a life so full and rich that I can barely believe my own luck.
And what of my girls? Well, we stayed for the rest of our holiday, helping the new doctor to settle in and become part of the camp. And then we stayed some more – eight years in all. The girls attended the international school in Moshi, and I found a job helping one of the organizations that works to supply medicine and doctors to camps such as ours. In school holidays, we returned with love to the home of our hearts, and to the wide-open arms of Mama Akanit.
Mrs. Brinkley has come to visit on many occasions, and is now considered to be the camp grandmother by all and sundry. She and Mama Akanit are firm friends, and communicate by email, thanks to the instruction of Grace, who now travels the length and breadth of Africa, setting up communications networks for other aid organizations.
Lillia, of course, is a word-renowned anthropologist, specializing in the relationships between African cultures and, you guessed it, mythical creatures, including unicorns.
My little friend, the boy who never speaks, is now a helicopter pilot, flying our doctors all over the continent. He still doesn’t speak much, but what he does say, comes from the heart.
And just so you know, I finally got my tattoo. I think you can guess what it is.
16
The other commandments:
a commonsense guide
to a happy life
Believe in others. Expecting good from your fellow man encourages them to be good.
Know how (and when) to sit and just enjoy the moment or person. Go lie in the back garden or on your bed with your child and listen to the same iPod for an hour, one earphone each and all phones off. Open a bottle of wine in the middle of the week and share it with your husband while you both make drawings from the stars and ignore your tax returns. Don’t try to tell your story; let someone else tell theirs. And listen.
Get a better attitude. Seriously. Whether it’s making a bed for the millionth time or unclogging the septic tank, be grateful and act with good will. Think how happy the person who climbs into smooth sheets will be tonight, how you will have contributed a fundamental and yet under-recognized part of their well-being. Same thing for the septic tank: it may have failed you once but think how many dumps it’s taken for you, without fail.
Don’t assume that others are thinking the same as you. When you project your expectations onto someone else, you are robbing them of the right to act according to their feelings. Instead, be the best person you can in a given situation, and then assume that everyone else is working for an all-round positive solution.
Have a little faith. Regardless of whether you are a born again Christian, a flaming agnostic or you venerate the pixies in the bottom of the garden, practice believing way deep inside that everything works out for the best. There is a blessing in every situation, no matter how sinister. Pollyanna had it right. There’s always some good news, somewhere, if you just open up to it.
Commit to life and love. That’s right, pick something and get on with it, with all your heart and soul. Doesn’t matter whether you’re choosing to love a person or a job or a project. If you’ve decided to do it, then do it with all your heart and all your love. And if you can’t think what to do, pick something that makes others feel good and get on with it. Inspiration will follow.
Assume responsibility. For your choices and your life. If you are not happy with something, change it. If you can’t change all of it, change a part of it. Let’s put things in perspective here: most of us have roofs over our heads, clothes on our backs and food on our tables. Our lives are not so bad, and even if there’s room for improvement, we at least have the choice of what we do. And if you chose it, then you’re responsible for the choice. That’s empowering!
The ongoing abuse and – when we are lucky – rehabilitation of child soldiers in African nations is truly a past, present and future issue.
To my mind, harming the innocence that defines a child is the one of the worst possible crimes. It is not of an evidence to fix that which appears irreparably broken, but with love and patience and understanding and education, we can help these children along the path to a form of healing, and in doing so, ensure that such horrors are banished from generations to come.
To find out more about how you can help,
go to the UN site:
www.un.org/ecosocdev/geninfo/afrec/
Another great site is:
www.warchild.org/index.html
For a list of other organizations, go to:
childsoldierrelief.org/