Starting Point: Poverty or Wealth Part II
“Your money cannot secure our survival instincts — another gift from poverty.”
“And?” Jeanet quickly responds with a counterpunch to the right.
Eden jabs back. “I attended the best private schools and colleges. You had to slave your way up.”
“That was the lifeline life threw me, and I love the route I was forced on. It turns out to be a hell-of-a journey because it has placed your future in the palm of my hands. My struggles gifted me strength, wisdom, and staying power,” Jeanet jabs back with gratitude to life and poverty.
Rage explodes in Eden, and she continues hitting below the belt, “You looked dreadful in your hand-me-down/second-hand clothes. My family’s wealth adorned my body the finest from the runways in Paris, London, Milan, and worldwide.”
Rising and twirling her lean, perfect yoga body, glamorized by a baby pink expensive tailor-made suit, Jeanet counterpunch, “what do you think now?”
Refusing to give defeat power, Eden roared on, “I was better looking too.”
“Girl, you need more than that to tear me down,” Jeanet slams her with a right hook, smirking.
“I ate foods you and your family couldn’t afford. I traveled the world; besides school and church, you never leave your tiny backyard. I inherited millions ...”
Jeanet throw a Bolo punch, cutting her off, “Which you spent as if it came from an East Indian Mango Tree in the Caribbean.,”
“What?” Eden stumbled.
“In Kingston, Jamaica, some mango trees bear all year round. While in the countryside, they are seasonal.”
Eden growls as the Bolo punch connects and slows her down, rebounding quickly, “So what?”
“You thought your money had no end, and you had it all?”
“I did have it all. A mother and father raised me in heaven,” she boasted.
“No, you didn’t,” Jeanet counter punches. “You had parents who only met your physical needs.”
Confusion spread across her face, blended with anger, pushing her deep back into her childhood.
Jeanet threw more punches before she could recharge, “My mom was the parent that helped you with all of your homework, school projects, and everything educationally, mentally, emotionally, psychologically, and also spiritually related to life and your upbringing until you left for college.”
Eying her as realization looms closer, Jeanet continues jabbing, “she read you bedtime stories. My mother was the one that carried you through puberty and every stage until you left for college. She did all the things your parents should have done.”
Glaring at Jeanet as reality slams a groin attack, refusing to grant victory to defeat, Eden defends, “Well, I still had the most important thing that you didn’t have.”
“And what is that?”
“Wealth,” she boasts.
Gazing at her, then nodding, Jeanet agrees, catching her in a hook, “You are right. Too bad it can’t buy the love and support my mother gave me. It cannot purchase the fighting spirit that has kept my mom alive through the hardships of life.”
The anguished reeling from Eden, expand her eyes, as reality threw a bigger punch.
Jeanet keeps on punching. “She has outlived both of your parents and your millions too. Your parent’s riches then and what’s left of your assets cannot acquire the happiness, blessings, or the excellent health my mom enjoys. You cannot have my fighting spirit, either. That’s a gift life hands to the poor, which keeps many of us alive through the storms, volcanoes, earthquakes, hurricanes, droughts, poverty, and everything else we encounter daily.”
“Your money cannot secure our survival instincts — another gift from poverty. There isn’t enough wealth on this planet to secure what I, my mom, and others like us have. Without your money, you won’t be able to think or move.”
Tears thrust from her eyes as reality slams her in a check hook, and through the tears, she pondered aloud, “being poor has helped you to survive?”
“Welcome to the real world!” Jeanet alerts.
“I can’t live a life of deprivation. Wealth has taken that option away from me,” she wails, slumping back into the chair as defeat embraced her. “What will become of me without money?”
“Ask poverty?” Jeanet announces. “And while you wait for an answer, Dunlop Industries will allow you to use your business degree for the first time in more than twenty-five years. It will be hard, but I believe you can do it. And I will help you,” Jeanet vows.
Eden stared at her as tears began to speak. Wiping it away with the back of her right hand, she asks, “Why? Why help me?”
“Your treatment of me when we were children, gave me a boost to fight harder. I am giving you one. My professor of Psychology calls it ‘positive rage.’ He said, it’s necessary and aids in our development.”
“But I was always mean and cruel to you.”
Smiling, Jeanet elaborates, “My mom taught you all the same values she taught me. You twisted them to your own advantage. Choosing to use only the ones that gave you power, and in the process, you create more enemies than friends. You and your family’s thoughtless treatment of my family, and we were of the same race, provided fuel for us to keep hoping and fighting. Not helping you today would cause me to lose the fight.”
Nodding in confusion, she wailed, “I don’t understand.”
“It’s called love and compassion. I was raised to help everyone, when I can, as long as I can. By assisting you, I am bettering myself, you, and our world. My mom believes that, and she instilled it in both of us.”
The grief and sorrow glowing in Eden’s eyes said it all, and she reached over and hugged Jeanet for the first time since they were children growing up together. Releasing her, she vowed, “I am so sorry for all the cruel things I have done to you and your family in the past. I will not let you down. Your mom taught you well, and now both of you have given me a reason to fight. Can you show me how? Wealth denied me of that opportunity.”
“It will be an honor,” Jeanet promises.
Poverty and wealth teach different lessons. Both are valuable to someone, for different reasons. The strong ones were given the gift and opportunity to learn both.
Are you one of them?
It is the best place to start for me because I already know the route down and back if or when I fall. And that is power!
Thank you for reading this piece. I hoped you enjoyed it. Please enjoy more from some brilliant writers on this platform.
