So, I left off at the end of Mitsa's story. I saw her for the next few days, and then I had the week of Thanksgiving off, and then I didn't have to go back to work until the 12th of December. (In this week of I went to see some friends in Connecticut, but that's a whole different story in itself.) So, let's begin, shall we?
So, I went back to work on the 12th of December, and the odd part about the beginning of my day, was that no one was at the bus stop with me. Normally I stand in the frigid air with two women- Primela and Tooey. Today, neither of them were there. Now, I was only slightly put off by this because I was exhausted. I mean, it's really challenging to go from waking up at 12 to waking up at 5. So, I get on the bus, make it to the Pentagon, catch another bus, and make it to work. Now, it's a very cold day, it's maybe only 30 degrees at the moment, so I don't have to walk Anna to school today. Another mom will pick her up, which I am totally fine with. But, this also means that I have to spend more time with the baby. I love the baby....
Except when she's teething.
When she's teething, I want to run away and hide. There is nothing I can do for her except hold her all day as she cries and screams in agony. The only medicine I can giver her is Tylenol, which doesn't seem to be helping at all. I try giving her different teething toys, but she rejects them all. So, for the next 9 hours, I am stuck holding a screaming baby as I try to go about my daily routine. Frustrated, I call some friends, my parents, everyone I can think of really, who might have some experience calming a teething baby. But the advice is all the same: unfortunately I've just got to stick this one out.
Needless to say that by the end of the day, I am exhausted. I am frustrated. I have screamed to God that I never want to have kids. EVER! I have packed everything up to leave by the time 4 o'clock rolls around. And then no one comes home except for Anna. Anna's mother then calls me and tells me that she might be late. Her husband will also be late, so would I mind staying late? Well, there's not much I can do except stay later. I stay for another 45 minutes. Finally Anna's mother comes home, and I am allowed to leave. I am nearly in tears at this point. It was a stressful day anyways, but then I had another 45 minutes, missed the first 2 buses that I would normally take, and the next bus wouldn't get me home until after 6:30.
Needless to say, I was very stressed when I got on the bus to go to the Pentagon.
So, I got off at the Pentagon bus station, go down the stairs, and see an outrageously long line for the bus that I am supposed to take. But then again, they could all be waiting for different buses at the same stop. Either way, the line stretches three stops past the original one. I have just walked all the way to the front, and am making my way to the very back when someone stops me. It's Primela. She grabs my arm and gives me a huge hug. She smiles radiantly, and asks me where I've been for the past 2 weeks, and why she hasn't seen me at the bus stop. She asks me if this is the bus that I normally take, and I respond that it isn't. "I had to stay at work late today," I tell her. "Oh, that's so funny," she responds, "I got off work early today. This isn't the bus that I normally take either!" So, we start talking, and then, miraculously, our bus comes early. We are able to get on and find seats next to each other, and we begin talking about our days.
Soon, I am telling her about the terrible day I just had. She sits and listens patiently. I start spilling out why I was frustrated with the job in general, everything from getting up early, to the amount I was being paid, to the teething infant. After a few minutes, I manage to calm myself down. I sit and wait for her to say something. She looks at me, and then starts speaking.
"Rebecca. I totally know where you are coming from. I was a live-in nanny when I was 19 years old. I remember when the baby was teething. Oh my goodness! It got to the point where I did not want my own children."
"Yes," I say, "I hit that point today! I never want my own children if that is what it's like."
She smiles and continues, "Even today, when I am significantly older, I still did not want children. My husband always wanted many kids. But we had one, and I told him that I was done. I did not want more than one. I do not think that I could have done a good job of raising more than one."
She talks about her son for a minute, and then remembers that we are talking about my job. "Well Rebecca," she continues, "when I was a live in nanny, that was the most difficult time of my life. I had just moved from my home in India to a new home in Quebec. (Which finally explains her unique accent). I wanted to go to school there, and the only way to pay for it was to be a nanny. Oh, none of my university friends knew how hard it was! None of them could imagine why I was tired, why I didn't want to party, why I couldn't do things with the during the day. None of them understood that I worked a full eight hour day and then took a bus to night school, and then went back and did it all again. No one realized that it was challenging to raise a child. Granted, I only had one to look after, but I was so stressed and tired all the time that I am surprised that I lasted as long as I did."
She takes a pause to look at me, and she grabs my hand. We hold hands for a minute, and then she continues her story. "Well, I remember when I would call my parents in India, and I would cry to them. I remember asking them how they did it. How they managed to raise so many children. How I did not think I could do it any longer. And I remember that my mother told me- I will never forget this Rebecca- she said, 'Primela. If it is too much for you, then you are free to quit. You are free to leave. You may come home if you want. Nothing you do will change your father's and my love for you.' Hearing this from my mother gave me the courage to talk to the people I was working for. I was able to leave the job and find a job that did not make me so frustrated with life. I made it through university without going insane. I mean, Rebecca, I thought I was going to go completely insane!"
She continues to hold my hand as I listen to her soothing voice telling me about her past. It is so comforting to know that someone else has gone through this exact thing, at almost exactly the same age that I am, and had the exact same reaction. I am relieved- part of me thought I was a monster for not wanting kids, or for being stressed and frustrated all the time. I began feeling this weight lifting from my chest.
She continues, "Rebecca. I am going to give you some advice. But first, I am going to tell you why. You want to know why? Because I love you. Why do I love you? Because you are a child of God. You are a blessed child of the heavenly father, and He is so proud of you. He sees what you do every day. And He loves you so much. And I love you so much. And what kind of mother would I be if I didn't give my daughter advice? Yes Rebecca, you are my daughter. I am your mother away from home, and I know that I will not replace your mother, but your family will grow with me and my family."
I stare at her in wonder, but I don't know what to say. So she gives me a hug, and then keeps talking. "Rebecca, I think that the world is full of a cosmic "pay it forward". I think that everything we do will come back to us in one way or another. Regardless of good or bad, we will receive that again. And I saw what you did for that woman on the bus earlier. The one you prayed with. (She is talking about Mitsa). Rebecca, you may not know this, but I work with her. And you are all she ever talks about. She only talks about how you healed her, how you brought her hope when she had none. She only ever says how thankful she is for you and for your influence in her life. She says that she has started praying again, has started going to church again. She sees the colors in the world again. And she always thanks God for you. Every day. And Rebecca, you did not even know her! You followed God without any doubts, and He sees that, and He is so proud of you. You are His lovely daughter, who has the power to change lives. And you are! I saw you! And I continue to see that woman every day, even though we don't work directly together, every time I pass her in the halls she tells me about how much faith she has now and how thankful she is for you."
I start tearing up. I mean, wow. How is someone supposed to react to that? Primela squeezes my hand and continues, "So, Rebecca. I know that you love this family. And I see that you love them very much, because why else would you be here very early every morning? Why else would you be going home so late? I see that you love them and want to care for this family as best as you can. And I see that the Lord is using you in their lives. I see that. And I know that God has you where He wants you. But I can also hear God saying that the test is drawing to a close, and that very soon you will need to leave this job. That you will need to spend some time loving yourself. You will need to find a job that pays you better, that provides for your needs. He is saying that you are doing so well, that you couldn't be doing a better job, and that soon your suffering here will be over. And Rebecca, this is not me, this is God. He is telling you this. He is bringing around your cosmic pay it forward. He is letting you know through me that he is thankful for you bringing Mitsa back to Him, and that He will provide for you in ways you can't even imagine."
I really am crying now, and Primela gives me another hug. "I love you Rebecca. Never forget that you are not only God's daughter, but you are my daughter now."
I whisper back, "Thanks Primela. I love you too."
The moment we break apart, we realize that our stop is coming up. A minute later, we are off the bus, and standing in the dark evening. She gives me another hug. "If I do not see you again, Merry Christmas Rebecca. Merry Christmas." She turns to leave, and I turn in the opposite direction to go home.
I am no longer angry about leaving work so late. If I had made the early bus, then I would not have had a chance to talk to Primela, and my day would have continued to be awful. As I walked home, I was truly in awe of the Lord and His methods of throwing people into our lives. I am still in awe of this encounter, and I don't think I will forget it any time soon.
So ya'll. That's the end of the 3rd story. And technically that means that I should be done with this series. But I do have one more story to share. There has been another miracle this weekend, and I want to share it as a part of this series. So, hopefully I'll get the 4th part up tomorrow
Thank you for sticking this out and keeping up with my crazy life :)
Needless to say, I was very stressed when I got on the bus to go to the Pentagon.
So, I got off at the Pentagon bus station, go down the stairs, and see an outrageously long line for the bus that I am supposed to take. But then again, they could all be waiting for different buses at the same stop. Either way, the line stretches three stops past the original one. I have just walked all the way to the front, and am making my way to the very back when someone stops me. It's Primela. She grabs my arm and gives me a huge hug. She smiles radiantly, and asks me where I've been for the past 2 weeks, and why she hasn't seen me at the bus stop. She asks me if this is the bus that I normally take, and I respond that it isn't. "I had to stay at work late today," I tell her. "Oh, that's so funny," she responds, "I got off work early today. This isn't the bus that I normally take either!" So, we start talking, and then, miraculously, our bus comes early. We are able to get on and find seats next to each other, and we begin talking about our days.
Soon, I am telling her about the terrible day I just had. She sits and listens patiently. I start spilling out why I was frustrated with the job in general, everything from getting up early, to the amount I was being paid, to the teething infant. After a few minutes, I manage to calm myself down. I sit and wait for her to say something. She looks at me, and then starts speaking.
"Rebecca. I totally know where you are coming from. I was a live-in nanny when I was 19 years old. I remember when the baby was teething. Oh my goodness! It got to the point where I did not want my own children."
"Yes," I say, "I hit that point today! I never want my own children if that is what it's like."
She smiles and continues, "Even today, when I am significantly older, I still did not want children. My husband always wanted many kids. But we had one, and I told him that I was done. I did not want more than one. I do not think that I could have done a good job of raising more than one."
She talks about her son for a minute, and then remembers that we are talking about my job. "Well Rebecca," she continues, "when I was a live in nanny, that was the most difficult time of my life. I had just moved from my home in India to a new home in Quebec. (Which finally explains her unique accent). I wanted to go to school there, and the only way to pay for it was to be a nanny. Oh, none of my university friends knew how hard it was! None of them could imagine why I was tired, why I didn't want to party, why I couldn't do things with the during the day. None of them understood that I worked a full eight hour day and then took a bus to night school, and then went back and did it all again. No one realized that it was challenging to raise a child. Granted, I only had one to look after, but I was so stressed and tired all the time that I am surprised that I lasted as long as I did."
She takes a pause to look at me, and she grabs my hand. We hold hands for a minute, and then she continues her story. "Well, I remember when I would call my parents in India, and I would cry to them. I remember asking them how they did it. How they managed to raise so many children. How I did not think I could do it any longer. And I remember that my mother told me- I will never forget this Rebecca- she said, 'Primela. If it is too much for you, then you are free to quit. You are free to leave. You may come home if you want. Nothing you do will change your father's and my love for you.' Hearing this from my mother gave me the courage to talk to the people I was working for. I was able to leave the job and find a job that did not make me so frustrated with life. I made it through university without going insane. I mean, Rebecca, I thought I was going to go completely insane!"
She continues to hold my hand as I listen to her soothing voice telling me about her past. It is so comforting to know that someone else has gone through this exact thing, at almost exactly the same age that I am, and had the exact same reaction. I am relieved- part of me thought I was a monster for not wanting kids, or for being stressed and frustrated all the time. I began feeling this weight lifting from my chest.
She continues, "Rebecca. I am going to give you some advice. But first, I am going to tell you why. You want to know why? Because I love you. Why do I love you? Because you are a child of God. You are a blessed child of the heavenly father, and He is so proud of you. He sees what you do every day. And He loves you so much. And I love you so much. And what kind of mother would I be if I didn't give my daughter advice? Yes Rebecca, you are my daughter. I am your mother away from home, and I know that I will not replace your mother, but your family will grow with me and my family."
I stare at her in wonder, but I don't know what to say. So she gives me a hug, and then keeps talking. "Rebecca, I think that the world is full of a cosmic "pay it forward". I think that everything we do will come back to us in one way or another. Regardless of good or bad, we will receive that again. And I saw what you did for that woman on the bus earlier. The one you prayed with. (She is talking about Mitsa). Rebecca, you may not know this, but I work with her. And you are all she ever talks about. She only talks about how you healed her, how you brought her hope when she had none. She only ever says how thankful she is for you and for your influence in her life. She says that she has started praying again, has started going to church again. She sees the colors in the world again. And she always thanks God for you. Every day. And Rebecca, you did not even know her! You followed God without any doubts, and He sees that, and He is so proud of you. You are His lovely daughter, who has the power to change lives. And you are! I saw you! And I continue to see that woman every day, even though we don't work directly together, every time I pass her in the halls she tells me about how much faith she has now and how thankful she is for you."
I start tearing up. I mean, wow. How is someone supposed to react to that? Primela squeezes my hand and continues, "So, Rebecca. I know that you love this family. And I see that you love them very much, because why else would you be here very early every morning? Why else would you be going home so late? I see that you love them and want to care for this family as best as you can. And I see that the Lord is using you in their lives. I see that. And I know that God has you where He wants you. But I can also hear God saying that the test is drawing to a close, and that very soon you will need to leave this job. That you will need to spend some time loving yourself. You will need to find a job that pays you better, that provides for your needs. He is saying that you are doing so well, that you couldn't be doing a better job, and that soon your suffering here will be over. And Rebecca, this is not me, this is God. He is telling you this. He is bringing around your cosmic pay it forward. He is letting you know through me that he is thankful for you bringing Mitsa back to Him, and that He will provide for you in ways you can't even imagine."
I really am crying now, and Primela gives me another hug. "I love you Rebecca. Never forget that you are not only God's daughter, but you are my daughter now."
I whisper back, "Thanks Primela. I love you too."
The moment we break apart, we realize that our stop is coming up. A minute later, we are off the bus, and standing in the dark evening. She gives me another hug. "If I do not see you again, Merry Christmas Rebecca. Merry Christmas." She turns to leave, and I turn in the opposite direction to go home.
I am no longer angry about leaving work so late. If I had made the early bus, then I would not have had a chance to talk to Primela, and my day would have continued to be awful. As I walked home, I was truly in awe of the Lord and His methods of throwing people into our lives. I am still in awe of this encounter, and I don't think I will forget it any time soon.
So ya'll. That's the end of the 3rd story. And technically that means that I should be done with this series. But I do have one more story to share. There has been another miracle this weekend, and I want to share it as a part of this series. So, hopefully I'll get the 4th part up tomorrow
Thank you for sticking this out and keeping up with my crazy life :)
Absolutely amazing!!
ReplyDeleteThanks Barbara :)
ReplyDelete