Psalm 131

Budding flowers in the neighborhood - Photo Credit Mrs. O

My heart is not proud, Lord,

    my eyes are not haughty;

do not concern myself with great matters

    or things too wonderful for me.

But I have calmed and quietened myself,

    I am like a weaned child with its mother;

    like a weaned child I am content.

 Israel, put your hope in the Lord

    both now and for evermore.

Psalm 131

What are these freedoms?

Bible study at Kampala Pentecostal church was coveted. I sat on the last pew in the lower right section of the balcony near the door - my favorite spot. I could easily slip out and run home when it got late. He liked to sit around the same area and from time to time we would talk or smile at each other. We came in school uniform. I didn’t know we stood out until my sister approached me with concern. A friend of hers had noted us and proceeded to tell my sister that I was playing with a boy in church. I learned that people are always watching. I also learned that adulting comes with challenges and responsibilities, one begins to view situations through one’s own lens.

Summer Fly's By

Whoa!! It's been a while since I was last here.

Yes, and now I return for the heart loves familiar places :-).

I miss blogging, chillin’ out with my peeps, talking about life. I thought the summer would be quiet and relaxed but it’s been filled with work assignments and stresses.

Chobe with the view of river nile
Chobe Uganda. Photo Credit: Mary Ongwen

This picture of Chobe in Northern Uganda gives me pause – a breath of fresh air. It centers my thoughts on good things – nature, wildlife, peace, rejuvenation.

What about you? What have you been up to?

Happy Weekend!!

Knock knock! Do you know Joseph?

Aerial shot over the sea of Marmara in Turkey. Photo Credit: Mary Ongwen

I was making dinner one fine Saturday when the doorbell rang. Two young men dressed in white shirts and black trousers stood at my door. I smiled and nearly said “Well, well, well! What have we got here?” I squished the laughter that climbed up my throat and virtually rubbed my hands with glee. I was in the mood for a good discussion.

The younger man, probably 17 years old put on his biggest smile although I’m sure he’d secretly hoped no one was home.

The Last of The Tooth Fairy

It happened once, I was about seven, it was magical. I lost a tooth and showed it to my mom. The next morning I discovered that a rat had carried 5 shillings and a peculiar sweet and quietly tucked them under my pillow. I was amazed at how the little fella carried this hefty package. I imagined how he’d climbed up staircases, scurried round corners and pushed my bedroom door open or maybe squeezed in through a tiny opening to deliver my package.

I lost another tooth, put it under my pillow and didn’t tell a soul. The next morning, the tooth was still there. I turned pillows, blankets and sheets upside down - alas! There’s wasn’t a gift in sight. Lost between shock and devastation, I wondered what ever could have happened. Was he killed in the line of duty?

Years later I figured out that the conspirators. I forgave them eventually.

Fast forward to my own home. Not keen on the drama, I kept it simple. You lose a tooth, I give you something small to celebrate .
But word of the tooth fairy spread from classrooms to the dentist, to my home.
“mummy? Is the tooth fairy real? “
“No, my dear!” I shut it down or so I hoped. But as I walked away I caught a little twinkle in the eye, the hope that maybe, just maybe this magic was real.

I tried that night.

Next morning :

“Mummy?”

“Yes my dear”

“The letter? You wrote it.”

“How did you know?”

“The hearts”

“I tried.”

“Yes. That’s okay. At least you tried. Thank you. I’ll save the money.”

Hug!

I got an A for effort.

Moving to WordPress: http://www.ugandanmama.wordpress.com.