Every year during our childhood when my mother announced that my Ouma was coming for one of her regular visits during the winter months, my sister & I just dreaded the time nearer to her visit. She always took charge of the household, we had to be bathed by 5, report for Bible study at six (we prayed for the whole family, even if they were second or third cousins in another country somewhere) and were off to bed before 7.
On the positive side we looked forward to her freshly baked bread in the mornings. Her famous custard cookies & rusks you could smell on your way home from school when you turned the last corner to find our house second on the left.
Somehow Ouma never stopped believing in us. My sister & I accompanied her to the local supermarket one day thinking that we would do the good deed of carrying her bags when she was done shopping. I was in std 8 & my sister must have been in 10 that year… But to our dismay we found ourselves hiding between the dog food and fruit & vegetables when she decided to go and ask about casual jobs for us during the holidays. I just left her there walking home as fast as I could, leaving my sister to carry her stupid bags and determined to tell my parents in what predicament Ouma had put us in. I also swore never to return to that supermarket again, problem was, it was the only one in town…
Years later I found myself in Ouma’s position, asking for casual jobs for my brother, with great embarrassment from his side in return. I’m only trying to help, like she was years ago. I never stopped believing in him, he will never understand the way I feel. I want him to get ahead in life.
I haven’t spoken to Ouma in a long time. She is in Bloemfontein being her old self helping out older people at a retirement village. I know she still believes in me, and still prays for us every night. Somehow I think God is listening, and her prayers helped me through the years to get where I am today.
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