My God Mother Taught Me The Ways Of Reusability — Even A Used Thing Can Serve A Purpose In The Right Hands

I remember the fateful day when we got back home from shopping. We went to a local bazaar where she was buying a few vases she could paint on. My Godmother was a teacher, and my mother’s childhood best friend. She was a just, bold, and beautiful woman whose smile withstood any hardship that came her way.

She was smart and had a creative spirit. She used to teach in my mother's Polytechnique institute for women. This was perhaps two decades ago, they were hardworking women aiming to inspire and create amazing things.

When I was little, she would never leave me alone and would always keep me with her. I like a little kitty cat, would follow her everywhere. She loved me a lot, and I was given a lot of love and care when I was growing up.

She had a terrific mindset of reusing materials that were deemed unusable. For example, there was once a sewing machine that was broken down — I remember it well, she fixed it in front of me. She removed a few parts and added another to substitute the repairs.

Even the mechanics were impressed, and didn’t charge a single fee — instead, they asked her if she would be able to work with them. Though, she denied the offer but was thankful for the consideration.

My Godmother used to hang out with me during her breaks. She would rush to my aid whenever I needed her, and I would always feel safe at her side. There isn’t a time that I didn’t stop crying when she was there.

Whenever I would feel sad, she would teach me a trick or two on how to make things happen when life kicks you down.

One time I remember she took her shawl, which I used to keep with myself. When I was a child, I used to sleep with a piece of clothing belonging to my mothers. They would have stitched it together so that when I sleep I could feel safe. So what they did, as they took each piece of a shawl that I liked and stitched it together.

Afterward, they came to me and gifted me that as a present that no matter where they are. I would always have it, by my side. I being a child hugged that piece of clothing whenever I would sleep. It made me feel safe and warm.

One day, I was playing with it and suddenly it got stuck in a bush. There were thorns and it got torn apart. I was saddened, and with tears in my eyes — I brought it back to my mother and told her what had happened.

She caressed my forehead and assured me that it will be all right. Afterward, we went to the roof — she told me to wait there, gave me a juice box and I went to the roof.

My mother came with a few materials on the roof and told me — Let’s make a kite. I said, in earnest — I do not know how to make one. She told me well, I sewed it together, but I thought of an Idea — let’s use the scraps to make a kite.

I was surprised and a bit sad. I asked her, “will it be okay, for mumu to become a kite?” She told me, of course.

She then said something I will perhaps remember my whole life and the days to come. Look here son,

“Sometimes there will be days, where you will lose parts of yourself and you will be broken and depressed but remember, there is always a way you can let things go in a warmer fashion that what life wants to.”

So if you ever feel down, and want a new perspective. Make a kite, of your worries, and fly it away. The further the kite will travel, the easier you will feel letting the thread go — once you let go of the thread.

You will feel free, we never really lose the things that make us who we are. They are a part of us, even if we believe we have lost them — they are still there in our hearts.

During this small discussion, I was just in awe of what she was saying. She took the sticks, that she brought from the bush that hard torn the shawl. and used the torn pieces as knots to tie the sticks together with the remaining cloth. She then balanced it together so that the cloth rests on the sticks while using the thorns to bind the cloth.

She displayed even thorns can serve a purpose when you use your wit to accomplish something great. She then lifted the kite, it was complete. But we needed a thread to fly it. She went down to the store and brought a yarn. We attached it and started to fly the kite.

As soon as the wind caught the kite, the kite started hustling in the air with a magnetic frenzy. Moving in haste here and there, until it went so far. I could barely see it anymore. Then my mother taught me, one final lesson that made the moment much greater.

She held the thread and asked me whether I want to let go — I was hesitant and asked wouldn’t it be a bad thing to let go of the things that matter to you. She told me well, you can choose to face them every day or reuse them for another rainy day.

The choice is yours, I told her — Let’s bring the kite back. We put so much effort, and It is a present from you. I want to take care of it.

We reeled it back in, doing so I had forgotten or moreover had let go of the sentiment that had made me blue. Instead, I used that moment to find a fresh perspective of what remained in my own two hands.

I chose to use that for another day, or perhaps show my friends what I had learned and teach them that as well. I took the kite and stashed it with my belongings. Though, I had somewhat grown up from that experience. And I was able to face any inconveniences in life that might happen in a much daring fashion.

What is lost, can always be found — as our existence can weave another branch that extends to what we feel is lost. A life-changing lesson was instilled on that colorful evening, where I received a presence of love and affection — that dawned me with a ray of hope — we can make it work, with what we have as what we worry can always be freed or used to make life anew.

Thank you for reading.