BLOOM WHERE YOU’RE PLANTED

Put your best foot forward — Everyday!

Four decades ago I was a timid fifteen-year-old.

Raised in the Caribbean, in a small county that shares a border with Mexico, life happened in slow drips. I was born a decade before my youngest brother, and in between him and I, there were three sisters and one brother. Yes, six altogether. As the oldest, I was subtly molded to be the smartest, the most obedient, the most mature. Why? Because I needed to be the best role model for my siblings.

As the oldest, I was the first one to receive ‘new’ hand-me-downs that went all the way down to my last sister.

I wasn’t born in a rich family, but nothing in my formative years indicated to me that we were borderline poor. Poor, not destitute. We had a decent roof over our head, food to fill our tummies, clothes to wear — an array for everyday wear and another set for church-going and special occasions, uniforms for school, necessary books and all stationery required to help me excel.

I was not smart but neither was I a dunce. I tried hard and I think I was often rewarded with good grades for the effort I put into learning my lessons rather than the correctness of the work expected. Oh boy, how I tried! And I tried my hardest because this is what was expected of the big sisters and big brothers in every family.

In a way, I was the smartest, the most obedient and the most mature. I taught my brothers and sisters everything I knew and made my parents proud in every way.

Then, scratching and scraping and seeking out financial assistance from everyone, from the catholic priest to the librarian, my parents got me to complete my high school education, surprisingly enough, as an honor-roll student.

Unexpected tests

Fresh out of graduation and still weighing my options in the industrial landscape that is that first exposure in the job market, my world came tumbling down. The unexpected death of my chain-smoker-father brought my mother and I to the grave realization that something drastic had to happen in order for our family to survive. With no savings account to turn to, and the almost consistent growth-spurt of those who followed behind, my mother decided on the right course of action for us to take.

Raised to be obedient and attentive to the needs of my siblings, I didn’t find it in me to put up a fight to contest my mother’s decision to send me ‘abroad’ to Mexico City to work, of all things, as a housemaid.

The puddle of water that came about from the slow drips that made up my life, made going to Mexico City ‘synonymous to going overseas’ without having to cross any body of water apart from the puddle of water my life had become.

“If anyone can make it out there, it’s you,” my mother assured me. I nodded my agreement but what I was thinking was the exact opposite of her reasoning.

Why would you expect all this from me? I didn’t choose to be the firstborn. I didn’t want to be the big sister. I did what was required of me, without a grunt or a complaint.

How much is enough?

That would have been my weak argument. But how would I have lived with myself if I didn’t extend a helping hand in return for all I had received? I got on the bus heading to the big city and spent a decade working for the Ruiz family, who, thanks to my lucky star, turned out to be very kind and sympathetic to me. Consequently, I helped to put my brothers and sisters through high school and as fate would have it, I found my soul mate. We went off to form our own little nest.

ABUNDANCE

There was nothing flowery in my life. There was no abundance of any kind in my world. But I lived the life I was given as fully and as worthy as I could. The stars looked down on me and lifted me up.

I accumulated blessings. That was the only ‘abundance’ that came to me, and that was the only kind of abundance I needed.

For sure, this is not an easy concept for people in developed countries to accept. “The nerve of your parents,” “They used you,” “You should have rebelled,” these might be some initial thoughts that arise. To them I say:

travel — see the world; accept diversity — respect circumstances; the book of life — it’s tailored to culture.

Are you thriving where you were planted? Or are you coming up with cynic excuses that lead you into road-blocks again and again? “Who, me?” you say, “look at you!” Now, stop right there, this is not to say that you should not thrive to be better. If you can do that, please, by all means, do! Thrive that way because to waste the opportunity is vain-living.

Go the distance!

Yep, look at me! I didn’t have the option to do it any other way. And you wouldn’t be hearing this story if I hadn’t gone where I was sent.

Please remember that some of us are not as fortunate; some of us thrive where we’re planted and flourish with the amount of sun we get.

Are you?

**THANK YOU FOR READING. MY HOPE IS THAT YOU FOUND VALUE IN THE STORY. I Wish You Miracles, Selma.