4: A Little Taste of Her Aspirations

It was expected that no one would believe her, reasoned Amber, seated over a dinner of pancakes and tea with Isis and Rhea. Amber had already told Rhea about the mermaid she saw and as expected, Rhea did not believe her. It was expected yes, but it still hurt. 

The experience made her resolve in her heart not to tell anyone else apart from her mother. It was better that way, she believed. At least even if her mother did not believe her, she would neither mock nor call her crazy as Rhea had done when she had told her earlier.  

Amber did not realize that submerged in her thoughts, she had been picking her food instead of eating it. Her eyes had been glued to her plate and so Isis and Rhea had been eyeing her as they pondered about her detached state.

“What is the matter with you Amber?” Isis asked, grabbing her attention. “Are you not grateful for what you have before you?”

“She’s sad because I didn’t believe her stupid story,” Rhea reported with her gaze fixed on her mother.

“What story?” Isis inquired from Rhea, returning her daughter’s gaze and for a brief moment, Amber silently questioned if they thought she wasn’t even there with them. But then Rhea was staring at her now and Amber did not like the sneer on her face.

“Why don’t you tell her about your trance?” she quipped and Amber knew there was probably no way she could easily escape this. Rhea was determined to create scenes that will shame her. She always was. 

Consequent to the present situation, Amber did not know when she began to fidget, biting her fingers because she was uncomfortable about telling Isis. What was the use anyway? The woman would not believe her. Besides, she had made a quiet resolve not to tell anyone else again apart from her mother. 

Realizing that both Isis and Rhea’s eyes were expectantly glued to her, she spoke to Rhea in a small panicky voice.

“She won’t believe me just like…”

“Let me be the judge of that” Isis snapped, interrupting her. “Now speak out before I get angry.” She added menacingly and Amber sighed, resigned to breaking her resolve on the matter.

 “Well, I saw a mermaid today while washing dishes at the river,” she said, and no sooner had the last word left her mouth did Isis and Rhea both burst into mocking laughter that went on and on even as Amber put her head down in humiliation and continued to pick at her food. 

She remained downcast as their laughter continued to ring unpleasantly in her head like a thousand bells being rung sporadically. 

Although Amber was feeling crushed, she directed her thoughts to focus on the following day because mercifully, it would offer her a break from her present ordeals. It was a day she could see her mother and also do things that gave her joy. The thought gave her some elation that strengthened her considerably hence, hours later, Amber was at the orphanage to do some charity.

It was daylight and the orphanage sat along a street with villagers going about their business. Domestic animals roamed about and children raced the streets. Smoke from street cooks rose into the air and vendors gaily attended to their customers. 

The marquee in front of the orphanage read To care for the homeless children. At a corridor in the orphanage, Amber gave three boys of around ten, a coin each as a reward for helping to carry her gifts to the orphanage. They thanked her and raced out of the door and into the street in their youthful vigor.

The Matron, a large woman showed up from a door inside the orphanage and gave Amber a bear hug. Afterward, Amber allowed the woman to escort her, leading her out of the main door that revealed the street. Amber briefly eyed the marquee, silently glad that she could now afford to contribute something through her wages. 

“Thank you so much, Amber.” The Matron said, grateful for what Amber had brought to the orphanage. Amber was silently wishing she could do more. Giving gave her joy, anything to ease someone else’s pain. (“You’re a good heart,” her mother would say).

“It was little,” Amber replied, not attaching much importance to the biscuits she and her mother had made for the children in the orphanage. The Matron gave her a warm smile which she returned.

“Nothing is little for us,” she stated with graceful simplicity. “We appreciate you. Stay blessed Amber. Do give our regards to Miriam.”

“She will hear. Thank you, Matron. Bye for now.”

They waved at each other and Amber departed with the Matron watching her go. 

Seconds later in a large room in the orphanage, the children began to feel the impact of Amber’s sacrifice. There were three hampers full of homemade biscuits on a table between the excited children and Matron, her husband, and her young son. They were as thrilled as the children.

“Mother, am so excited to start sharing.” Her son said with burgeoning excitement. 

“Me too.” She replied enthusiastically.

The man laughed and addressed the children. 

“Enough biscuits for everyone,” He announced and the children began to cheer.

Meanwhile, as Amber strode home she felt fulfillment. She had just opened her arms to the poor and extended her hands to the needy and knew that if she had more, she would give more. (“Whoever is faithful with little, will be faithful with much” her mother would say).

That evening, Miriam and Amber came out of their house in high spirits to have dinner on their front porch. It was a cool late evening with the light of day, draining away. Amber was behind her mother as they stepped onto the porch holding plates of rice topped with tomato sauce and fish at the sides. The porch was lighted by a lantern.

“Hello daddy,” Amber said, blowing her father’s sculpture a kiss. Miriam smiled at that and for a brief moment, became wistful. “Hello, honey.” She said dreamily and Amber smiled at her.

“Mother, it pleases me to see that you’re as elated as I am. You’ve loosened up.”

“It’s your presence here,” Miriam explained.

“The feeling is mutual mother.” 

They giggled and moved towards the bench at one corner of the front porch and there, Miriam sat astride it and placed her food before her. Amber took position opposite her and sat astride to face her mother before placing her food before her. Next, they dug in.

“Very nice,” Miriam commented after taking a spoonful. “You make this so good and I must thank you. Because of you, we eat better right now.”

“I learned from the best mother,” Amber stated. “I make this all the time over there and they love it. And please don’t thank me. We only have each other.”

Miriam ruffled Amber’s hair adoringly and Amber smiled. “Let me get us water,” she told Miriam who nodded at her. “Go on.” She said.

Amber rose and went back inside the house as Miriam continued with her meal. And seconds later, Amber reappeared with two cups of water. She returned to her seat, placing the cups of water before them. Then Miriam thanked her.

“No place like home,” Amber remarked. “If I had a choice, you know I would remain here with you.”

“I will rather have you here my star”

For a moment, sadness crept into Amber’s face and Miriam noticed.

“Are you really happy there?” she asked. “This is the third time I am asking.”

Amber had no idea she had been counting. However, she placed a reassuring hand on her mother’s shoulder and nodded, successfully forcing a believable smile because the last thing she wanted was for her mother to be worried.

Sometimes, to protect loved ones, some certain truth had to be kept away from them, she reasoned. She didn’t even know where that thought came from. She guessed she was learning about life. With life, there was always a lesson to learn.