Ordinary people….

Hello you, I’m excited to present a new short  story series todayđŸ˜†! Ordinay people is about helping You and I see something more about people we walk past everyday that just seem ‘ordinary’. Enjoy

It’s morning, a beautiful morning, I can hear cocks crowing some distance away one picking up from where the last stopped like they have a message to pass across, I can see the sun already peeking out from behind the clouds like a smile warming my heart, with the promise of a sunny day.

I’m standing at the end of the street, Silent, watching, observing passer-bys come and go, it promises to be a busy day. One or two cars zoom by already in a hurry to beat traffic. The public buses have started business for the day, stopping now and again to pick and drop off commuters, even the hawkers are out too, advertising their wares as they pass by. I catch a whiff of akara probably being fried just around the corner, little children in uniforms jog along in groups chattering about everything and nothing as they head to school.

I’m not jobless either, I too have a destination but in all the hustle and bustle around me, something catches my eye. Not too far from my vantage point I see an old man, and from the label on his green overalls I can tell he works for the government, he has some tools lying at a corner, while in his hand is one of those long brooms that we see witches fly on in d movies (but much to my relief this old man isn’t flying). Quietly and with all the effort he can muster, he’s sweeping the street, gathering the litter in a pile all the while oblivious to the fact that he was being watched intently. once in a while, he’d stand upright and stretch his back obviously strained by the task he is performing and I notice each time that he never stands quite straight, probably bent from old age or a hard life or a little bit of both. From where I stand I can see a fine film of sweat over his brow some of which trickles down his wrinkled face, he doesn’t seem bothered. Every few minutes he bends and then straightens over and over almost like a ritual, he works as though it is his joy, smiling and singing to himself. Amongst those who pass by some manage to utter a “good morning” or “well done” in his direction others pass without a word or even a glance at him they are all too focused on their destination, some even walk over the pile of dirt he has gathered and never bother to look back or apologise. This old man doesn’t seem to mind, he clears up the mess again never showing any sign of anger or resentment till he is all done. Then he packs up all the debris into the brown sac that had been lying close to his other tools, putting the sac and tools in a cart, he rolls the cart gently forward as he heads for the next street where I believe he’d have more work to do…but he goes on whistling to himself all the way…and in my heart I’m praying for such patience, joy and tolerance that I just saw exhibited by this humble old man….a bus comes by, and I hear the conductor screaming the name of the direction in which I’m headed. I get on the bus, still meditating on the virtues of this old simple man.

thats all for today. Make sure you pick a lesson or two and always remember, Jesusrules#

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