Just as I was about to reach the office yesterday afternoon, the skies opened up and it rained cats and dogs. The rain made me, my shoes and my umbrella wet. But I did not complain.
I never complain about the rain now. I have stopped complaining about it after a well meaning friend pointed out to me the rain could be a blessing in disguise for some other people. For instance, some farmers somewhere might need the rain for their crops. “Don’t complain when it rains,” he advised me.
After reflecting on my friend’s words, I agreed wholeheartedly with him. In the rural areas which are still without piped water supply, the rain is very much welcomed. How selfish of me not to think of these poor people!
When I was young and spending the holidays with my grandmother, my two aunts would rush to fill big ceramic jars with rainwater each time it rained. The rainwater, which was collected from the rooftop, would be stored in the jars.
If it was not for the rainwater, my aunts would have to trudge to a stream and river which were quite far away to collect water for cooking, drinking and cleaning the pots and pans.
Although the rain yesterday made me wet, I was grateful for it. At least, I did not have to water the plants in my garden for a day or two. For the past few weeks, the weather had been quite scorching hot and I had to water the plants with the help of a hose.
Yes, my friends, don’t complain when it rains.
Our initial reaction is to complain when things don’t turn out the way we expect. But sometimes unexpected things happen for good reasons. And it might take years for us to appreciate why certain things happened the way they did.
One of my nephews took me out for dinner recently. During the dinner, he reflected on poverty in his childhood when he could not enjoy as much French fries as he wished to.
Every week, his paternal grandmother (my mother) would buy him just a small packet of French fries from a supermarket when she took the bus to town. So he resorted to making his own French fries from fresh potatoes.
“Though they were not as tasty as those which were bought, at least they were crunchy,” reflected my nephew with a smile on his face.
What he experienced during his childhood has made this nephew wiser and more appreciative of life and the good things it now brings him.
He knows what it is like to be poor and so whenever he is free, he remembers his grandmother and of course, the rest of the family including yours truly, and will proudly and happily bring us out for lunch or dinner.
Last week, he and his wife treated us to dinner for two consecutive nights. I was touched by their generosity and the spread of good food. Although I helped to look after him when he was young, I never expected anything from this nephew. All I wanted was for him, my brother’s son, to grow up well, be somebody and make us proud.
Today, I am very grateful to God because this nephew has grown up to be a loving and responsible grandson, son, husband and father. His wife told me both of them were grateful that I was like a mother to him when he was young. When he was naughty in school, I was the one who had to face the teachers and apologise to them on his behalf. On my birthday recently, my nephew and his wife surprised me by throwing a big party and presenting me with a big cake and lovely handbag.
In my life, I have brought up not only this nephew but another nephew and two nieces. The other nephew also remembers me on important occasions and is grateful to me for taking care of him when he was in school. He also presented me with a birthday cake and treated to a sumptuous dinner.
My nephews, who are grown-up and are fathers now, have a special nickname for my house – The Orphanage. The Orphanage was where they, children from broken homes or faraway homes – found refuge and love when they were young.
They lived there during the school terms and went back to their respective towns during the school holidays.
I signed their report cards most of the time. Sometimes, without my knowledge, they signed their own report cards by forging my signature. This, I found out from one of them years later during a friendly family talk.
I wonder how I would have reacted if I had found out about the false signatures in my younger days. But now I am older and wiser, I am more forgiving, understanding and liberal. All I do is laugh my head off! This the truth straight from the heart.
Although they have left The Orphanage to live their own lives, my nephews still return to it once in a while with their wives and children to enjoy the meals I cook and seek the company of their grandmother and the rest of us who remain in The Orphanage.
When I look at my nephews, I am grateful for the rain. Yes, don’t complain when it rains. Remember the farmers and the rural dwellers. Remember the sun will always come out after the rain.
