Helping hands


Tell us about the most surprising helping hand you’ve ever received.

For the second time that day I found myself crying. The previous time, however, had been much less embarrassing and much more desperate. Let me start at the beginning.

Earlier that day I reached my lowest point. The past couple of months had simply been too much and when I had to let the offerings basket pass by without being able to put in any thing, I started to cry. I left church and walked home. My tears washed away by the soft winter rain.

When I got home I started searching for money. I managed to get together a handful of coins, which I held in a clenched fist. In the bathroom I sat down next to the toilet and started counting. R8.20. That was all. I had not eaten in 2 days, but it didn’t quite bother me, as long as Luke was fed. My usual “there is always something to be grateful for” attitude went out the window and desperation washed over me. Was I to give him 2 Minute Noodles again for dinner? He never complained, but his face spoke chapters. I couldn’t do it anymore! I had no choice but to make do with what I had.

As I entered Pick n Pay, I heard someone call my name. I turned around to see a girl I had seen at church once or twice before, I later learned her name was Christina. She walked up to me and I prepared myself for the chit-chat, the fake smile plastered in place.

She passed me an envelope and said: “I belief this belongs to you.” With that she gave me a hug and walked off. I opened the envelope and what I found left me in tears, again. This time they were not tears of desperation, but tears of joy. Right there, at the entrance to Pick n Pay I sat down and prayed – this time for thanks. Inside the envelope was R600!

Don’t ever forget that God works in mysterious ways!

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Author: nanuschka

I am a free spirit born in the Free State, 20 years to late. I am Ying and Yang. I am the girl next door who prefers daisies and peace rallies, but can just as easily rock at a rally. I love all things Latin and am sure that in my previous life (if that existed) I was Spanish. The dark side of me, however, tells me that I lived in Mother Russia. On a quest to find my happy-ever-after, I am in constant search of answers to all things that makes us human. What we do and, more importantly, why we do it. I hope you enjoy my rambles and would love to hear from you!

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