she lost her charming husband and two kids
to a wild fire outbreak that went in and tore apart her entire family
her entire life,her all in all,
on that fateful evening of 26th January 1952
while she was away on a short transfer.
but to add heat to her sadness,
when she unofficially came back to stand face to face
with the pile of ashes
that her dear beautiful family has suddenly turned into
her employer was brave and bold enough
to bid her farewell with a kind 'you are fired'.
after burring her lovely family
with the very last dine of her savings,
being that the family was already in a financial mess
before the fatal blow occurred
and her burning compassion
for; MIKE-her husband,JAMES- her 3yr old boy
and CYNTHIA- her 9 months old darling girl
would certainly not let her leave them go down
memory lane without a burial,
she took to weaving as a means of sustainability
and carried along with the little returns she got from it.
Now at age 80
Mrs Houston is a popular figure in the neighborhood
and she actually is the most isolated
leaving all alone in her small house
which is referred to as the little tent/hut of the neighborhood.
every evening Mrs Houston will stroll to the nearby park
looking very cheerful,unimaginably peaceful and happy,always fresh.
one evening,Jane a 32 yr old lady with three children[2boys and a girl]
married to a boisterous husband
and living in practically the most comfortable apartment in the neighborhood
was sitting at the park
though not crying as that will draw much attention
from the people around and possibly make headline news
on the local radio the next morning,
but deep within she was very very bitter and sorrowful
and sitting there she is using every strength in her
to control her unrelenting tears to scarcely few droplets
which she quickly and stylishly wipes away.
as Jane was sitting, Mrs Houston walked by
and crossed to sit down at the other end of the chair
carefully enough not to distract Mrs Jane.
but Mrs Jane noticed all this and called out to Mrs Houston saying;
can i come over and sit beside you?
sure,my dear you are highly welcome.
then Jane considering the comfort in Mrs Houston voice
and the fact that there was no strain of loneliness or emptiness in her,
became encouraged and moved close to commune with her.
ma ,how do you do?
oh,am finer than fine[with a refreshing smile]
ma, there is something i don't understand
is it something i can explain?
sure,you can,its all about you.
[after a short pause] what about me,dear?
how do you,despite all the challenges,keep looking calm,
refreshing and cheerful always?
oh dear,concerning that its just a simple and straight forward issue
no! no! no! , don't give me that crab,
how can it be simple,it is not simple
because i have not seen someone with so much peace
amidst much turbulence.
my dear, its all about my lover and my friend
hmm! tell me about this love that blooms at old age,so much
its all about my friend, my close companion.
he made me to fear-not
while i walked through the valley of the shadow of death.
he made me to be at peace
in the midst of a burning fiery furnace
he made my darkness to shine as bright as noon day.
at this juncture someone called out on Mrs Jane
and she excused her self politely
and left promising to return another day to complete the discussion.
but that was the last time they ever saw each other
as Mrs Houston peacefully died four months later
and beside her was discovered a letter that is addressed to 'Mrs Jane Douglass'.
on receiving the letter that bright morning
that shined as if the rays of the sun became synonymous to peace
Mrs Jane opened the letter
with tear drops in her eyes as she read these lines;
WHAT A FRIEND WE HAVE IN JESUS
ALL OUR SINS AND GRIEF HE BEARS
WHAT A PRIVILEGE TO CARRY,
EVERY THING TO GOD IN PRAYERS
O WHAT PEACE WE OFTEN FORFEIT
O WHAT NEEDLESS PAIN WE BEAR
ALL BECAUSE WE DO NOT CARRY
EVERYTHING TO GOD IN PRAYER.