A very exciting thing has happened to me which I wanted to share with you all as its a bit of a dream come true.
Some years ago I had a series of miscarriages and was never lucky enough to have a family of my own. On top of that my 20 year old step-daughter got killed in a hit and run accident in 2010. So my dreams of being a mother never came to fruition and its been a great sadness to me and something I’ve battled with for a long time.
I’ve looked at many ways to heal this pain and one of the practical ways was to sponsor a child with World Vision. I was given a little boy of 6 called Davies who lived in Zambia and we corresponded for many years and I would send him little presents and get letters and drawings back from him. Last year I was told that Davies had now grown up and left the village and I was allocated another child called Alayhaji who is 10 and lives in the Kisiriri district in central Tanzania with his parents and 4 sisters. He has the opportunity to attend a local school and sponsorship will help him to continue to receive an education. In this rural area most families depend upon farming to survive but with poor harvests it is often a struggle to provide enough to eat and sell. World Vision’s programme covers 19 villages with around 50,000 people benefitting from the activities that are taking place there.
One of my great loves is writing – something I can get lost in. Two years ago I decided to do a Creative Writing course with my good friend Lesley to learn more about the techniques of writing. I discovered how much I liked writing short stories and it also helped to release emotions that I was holding onto – another way to heal. Each week the teacher would give us a topic and the first week we had to choose from a selection of images and write a story about it. My eyes immediately went to the one of the little African girl and I wrote ‘A Story of Hope’ which you can read below never dreaming that this might ever happen.
So it was with surprise that two weeks ago I received a letter out of the blue inviting me on a sponsor visit with World Vision to meet Alyhaji in November this year. There are only 8 places available and I was lucky enough to be chosen – I was so excited and just knew that I had to go. During the time I’ll spend in Kisiriri I will also meet all the other children and families in the community. We will learn about the local culture, how to cook some popular dishes and lend a hand in the primary school and children’s clubs.
We have also been asked to fundraise an additional £500. This will allow World Vision to provide bee-keeping training and beehives to parents of some of the must vulnerable children in Kisiriri. With many families dependent on farming the new additional income will truly help parents to learn new skills, join a co-operative and better provide for their children’s needs.
So I am now planning ways to fundraise – the centre of which will be a Feeling Gorgeous Health and Wellness Event in West Sussex in October. I am inviting people to have a stand at the event and all profits will go towards to the Kisiriri Beehive Project. So if any of you reading this are involved in Health and Wellness and would like a stand please contact me at email@example.com or call me on 07956 924329 – I’d love to hear from you. I will be paying my travel and hotel costs myself so all profits will go towards the amount I have to fundraise for the beehives. I will also be holding a raffle at the event so if you have any prizes you would like to donate please let me know. My good friend Gill has offered to handle the social media for the event so in the next few weeks you will see more news of what we are planning.
I am also holding an on-line draw for people who can’t make the event or live too far away. For every £10 donated their name will be entered into the draw to win a beautiful doTerra diffuser and an introduction set of essential oils. You can do this on www.jumblebee.co.uk/feelgorgbeehivesfortanzania
So the moral of this story is that whatever happens to you in your life there is always hope. However low you feel there are wonderful people out there who can help you and I’m lucky enough to have had so many friends who have been there for me when I needed them. Plus of course my belief in something greater than us that although we can’t see, is there for us; it doesn’t matter what you call it – angels, loved ones who have passed over, spirit guides etc. For me I have worked with various different mind body spirit experts to overcome the lack of purpose I felt, to let go of the pain and sadness and allow room for happiness and love to flow in. And of course, last but not least, my obsession with doTERRA essential oils which have had a profound affect on my life particularly in helping to release and support my emotions. Its not an easy ride but never impossible. I kept everything inside for too long which blocked my healing and even writing about this is quite scary!
If you have had a similar experience and would like to talk please feel free to reach out to me – opening up is the first step to healing. firstname.lastname@example.org or call me on 07956 924329. I’d love to hear from you.
A STORY OF HOPE
Hope sat hunched on the window seat watching the raindrops run down the glass pane and drop onto the ledge in a pool of glistening water. Her long dark hair needed washing and she couldn’t be bothered to put on any make up, in fact she couldn’t be bothered to do anything. The tight cold barren feeling she had inside her would not allow the tears to fall like the rain – the release she longed for to help her escape this prison of darkness and cold. But ironically she also feared the release; there was a strange kind of comfort in this empty place, a stopping of time, maybe even a reversal if she tried hard enough, to take her back to the day she knew there was another heart beating inside her, the glow of pleasure and happiness she felt knowing her baby’s body was being created by the miracle that nature bestowed.
But fate had dealt her a bitter blow – it had been two month’s since the day she woke to find the blood, the pain and her baby’s tiny body released from its safe haven in a rush of blood that left her feeling numb. She went through the motions of going to the doctor and the hospital but it was like watching someone else in a movie feeling no connection, no reality, no emotion. Nick her husband had been there for her but was unable to comfort her. She kept going over what she had done wrong, maybe she hadn’t looked after herself properly, should she have run for that bus? was the shopping too heavy?; her mind grabbed at anything to bring some sense of reason to the heavy feeling of loss she had.
Today Hope was alone. Nick was away on a business trip. It was Saturday and the weekend stretched before her like a desert of loneliness yet she was also pleased to be alone, she didn’t have to pretend. She closed her eyes hoping to shut out the pain but it did not go away. Aimlessly she left the window seat and turned on the television only to see an advert for nappies; everywhere she went she seemed to be bombarded with images of children; she angrily turned it off.
Hope went into the kitchen to make a coffee and opened a packet of biscuits eating one after the other feeling the comfort of the soft sugary crumbs melting on her tongue. She knew she shouldn’t, her weight had crept up again making her fatter than she had been for years and she hated herself. Despite this Hope knew she would go on eating until the whole packet had gone, it seemed the only comfort she could find.
She came back into the room and returned to the window seat picking up a magazine and idly flicking through the pages. Suddenly she stopped – a picture of a beautiful little black girl with a big smile, dark brown eyes and tiny little plaits all over her head jumped out at her. Hope found the smile infectious and for some reason, for the first time in ages, she smiled too and felt her eyes closing day-dreaming she was with the child.
The little girl kept smiling up at Hope and then pulled Hope’s hair and grinned and said to her:-
“ No I’m not your mama” said Hope
“Mama gone” said the little girl looking very sad.
A big ball of a tear bubbled up and ran down her smooth cheek. Hope went to her and hugged her close feeling the warmth of the little girl’s slender body. She felt locked in a moment in time, a warm comforting stillness broken only by the gentle lulling sound of the crickets.
Hope looked around to see she was under a tree in the garden of what looked like a school. It was very very hot and dusty but there was some welcome shade under the tree. Hope felt a sense of relaxation and peace in this place that she hadn’t felt for a long time. The little girl took Hope’s hand and pulled her towards one of the rooms. There were about thirty children seated at desks and a nun dressed in white robes teaching the class. The little girl ran to sit in the empty space at one of the desks and the nun said to Hope:-
“ Hello are you the new helper”
“ Yes I am” Hope found herself saying.
“ Very good said the Nun “I wondered where Matilda had gone. Thank you for bringing her back. What’s your name? ”
“Hope” she replied.
A bell rang and the children quickly got up from their seats as the Nun asked them to follow Hope out and play. Matilda came straight up to Hope and took her hand as they walked out into the sunshine. Hope felt a very strong empathy with the little girl who had lost so much.
Suddenly Hope woke up and realised she had been asleep, but she still had that warm peaceful feeling that continued to glow and grow as strong as the African sun in her dream. The magazine was still on her lap open at the page with the little girl and she looked again and saw it was an advert for a charity that helped children abroad. Hope knew this was the answer to heal her pain. She glanced out of the window again and the rain was still falling. This time Hope felt a large sob rise in her chest and the release she sought came as the tears began to fall in a torrent of pent up emotion.
Two months later Hope’s dream came true and she arrived at an orphanage in Africa. As she stepped off the bus after the long journey from the airport a little girl with tiny plaits in her hair ran up to her and flung her arms around her. Hope found herself looking into the face of Matilda, the little girl in her dream.
– Ends –