A Model Moment

She stood there watching as the evening unfurled, a solitary figure in a room filled with people from the fashion and business world.  She was there by invitation from her friend, a fashion photographer.  She felt so out of place.  She wasn’t used to be around such glamorous people.  Several people thought she was a model.  A few photographers snapped her photo, much to her chagrin.  It reminded her of the time when she had to recite a poem in front of her classmates.  She managed to get through it but it was nerve-racking.

She wasn’t one for socializing and at the first opportunity, she slipped out and escaped to the brightly lit garden.  It was a beautiful evening.  A slight breeze blew, gently rustling the trees.  It was early summer when the weather was comfortable.

She had no idea of how long she would stay outside but for now it was where she felt most comfortable.  She slowly walked along the path, her gaze sweeping over the sprawling grounds and in the background, she could hear peals of laughter and the clinking of glasses. She paused at the rose bush.  Unable to resist, she leaned over and breathed in the sweet fragrance.

“Good evening.”

The voice startled her and she swung round.  A tall figure approached her.  As he drew nearer, she recognized him from the photos her friend had taken and which were featured in the Spring issue of GQ.  Her heart began to beat fast and she wondered what she could say to him.  “Good evening,” she replied.

He smiled as he held out his hand.  “Adrian Barlow.”

She shook his hand.  “Simone Jackson.”

“I see you had the same idea,” he remarked.  “Getting away from the crowd, I mean.”

“Yes,” she looked away, feeling self-conscious because of his penetrating stare.

“I hope you don’t mind me joining you, Simone.”

She shook her head.  “No, I don’t mind.”

“Shall we take a walk?”

She nodded.  And they walked along the path.

“Are you a model?” he asked.

She shook her head.  “No.  I’m the Assistant Art Director of a children’s publisher.”

“Do you like what you do?”

“Yes.  I like my job very much.  As a child, I loved to read.  I still do.  I know that you are a model.  I have seen you photos in GQ.  Do you like modelling?”

He shrugged.  “It’s something I do when I am not too busy.  I don’t see myself doing it for much longer.  I have my own business which I enjoy running.”

“You know my friend, Erin.  She’s the reason why I am here tonight.”

“I saw when you arrived and watched you all evening, waiting for an opportunity to speak to you.  I saw you slip out and followed.  You really are quite beautiful, you know.”

She didn’t know what to say.  It wasn’t often that she had a gorgeous man tell her that she was beautiful.  They had come upon a fountain.  There was a bench nearby and she went toward it.  She sat down and he sat beside her, turning so that he was facing her.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you just now,” he said.   “Surely I’m not the first man to pay you such a compliment.”

“No, you aren’t the first but you have been around so many beautiful women.”

“Yes, I have,” he acknowledged.  “But none of them hold a candle to you.  Have dinner with me tomorrow evening, Simone.”

She stared at him and saw that he was very serious.  His amazing eyes were unwavering as they met her startled ones.  “Dinner with you,” she repeated, somewhat dazed.  This moment was almost surreal.

“Yes, unless you have other plans.”

“No, no.  I don’t have any other plans.”

“Then, you will have dinner with me?”

“Yes.”

She gave him her address which he scribbled on the back of a business card and placed in his breast pocket.

They sat there a while longer, talking.  She found herself becoming very relaxed with him and opening up.  Then they heard the sound of cars leaving and realized that it was time to go.  Reluctantly, she got up from the bench.  “Do you have a ride home?” he asked.

“Yes, I will get a ride with Erin.”

They headed back to the mansion and stopped at the foot of the steps where they were to part company.  “I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow,” he told her before he took her hand and raised it to his lips.  His eyes held her as he kissed it.  Her heart was pounding and her skin tingled. “Good night, Simone,” he said softly when he raised his head.

“Good night, Adrian.”

He released her hand and walked away.  Just then Erin joined her.  “I was wondering where you had gone off to,” she said, watching Adrian go.  “I see that you were in good company.”

Simone smiled.  “Thanks for inviting me tonight, Erin.  I had a wonderful time.”

“I can see that,” her friend teased before she took her arm and they headed to her car.

Source:  The Guardian Jobs

The Great Divide

A grainy photo of a child,

a beloved grandmother.

Survivor of the Holocaust.

Deceased.  God spared her

from witnessing the hatred

that has gripped the nation–

the country that she had

called home for so many

years.

 

It was the same kind of hate

which had invaded, occupied

her country and imprisoned

her and over 400,000 Jews

in the Warsaw Ghetto.  Taken

from their homes, they were

forced to live in an area cut

off from the world, topped

with barbed wire.  It was soon

decimated by outbreaks of

infectious diseases, mass hunger

and regular executions.

 

Then in the summer of 1942,

she and her family were among

the 254,000 residents of the Ghetto

who were sent to the Treblinka

Extermination Camp.

 

Tears spilled down her cheeks

as she remembered the horrors

her grandmother described to

her when she was in the camp.

She and her father were together.

Men were told to go to the right

and the women to the left.  She

never saw her parents or little

brother again.  They were

taken straight to the gas chamber.

 

Today, the same hate that had

driven Hitler and those who

shared his ideology has reared

its ugly head and was revealed

to the entire world in the VICE

video of the rally in Charlottes-

ville, Virginia.  The sight of

the burning torches and the

“Jews will not replace us”

and “Blood and soil” chants

filled her with disgust. And

the president’s failure to

lead was dangerous and

may lead to disastrous

consequences of the United

States and the world at large.

 

It was her hope and prayer

that the people of America

would do something about the

great racial divide before things

escalate even further.

 

Sources:  Wikipedia;  CNN

Providence

“Miss Johnson, to what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?” Lucius Suchet asked, his brown eyes studied her as she stood in the doorway.  “I’m astonished that you remember me considering that you didn’t so much as say a word to me last night.”

She ignored his remarks and marched over to the table where she tossed books, papers and pamphlets willy-nilly on the table.  She was about to turn around and leave when he caught her by the arm.  She tried to tug it away, glaring at him but his grip was too firm.  “Unhand me, Sir,” she ordered him.  “Remember that I am a Lady.”

His expression darkened.  “Yes, and I should remember that I am the son of a vicar,” he muttered.  “Yet, it was I who was invited to sit at the table and have dinner with your family when you were not.”

She blinked.  “I know that the color of my skin is the reason for this arrangement but it by no means suggests that I am not held in the highest regard by my family.  They are merely following convention however prejudicial it may be.  Now, please let go of my arm.  Perhaps Miss Foster might allow you to manhandle her but I won’t.” She tugged at her arm again and he released it.

His eyebrows arched.  “Miss Foster.  Why do you mention her?”

“I observed the two of you last night after dinner.  How she hung on your every word and how you showered her with your attention, no doubt filling her head with foolish notions–”

He laughed.  “My dear Miss Johnson, you are jealous.”  He seemed very pleased at the thought.

His remark and the expression on his face infuriated her.  “I am not jealous,” she retorted.  “To be jealous would imply that I have feelings for you, which I do not.”

He moved closer to her and she backed away, her eyes wary now.  “Look me in the eye and tell me that you don’t have feelings for me and I will pursue the matter no further.”

She glanced frantically at the door, longing to make her escape but he advanced toward her like a tiger while she backed away until she felt the wall behind her.  “Mr. Suchet, if you are indeed a gentleman as you would have me believe, you will permit me to leave right now.  The coach is waiting downstairs for me.  I must return home before my family begins to wonder where I am.”

He was standing very close to her now.  His eyes held hers like a trap holding a helpless bird.  “Tell me now that you don’t have any feelings for me,” he insisted.

Her eyes were wild now, with fear and something else which she hadn’t wanted him to see.  Her breath was quick and laborious and her heart was pounding.  She closed her eyes in defeat.  “I can’t” she admitted.

She felt his warm breath against her cheek.  “I have feelings for you too.  Feelings I have had ever since the first time I saw you.  I tried to fight them because was painfully aware of the difference in our stations but they are too strong.”

“What about Miss Foster?” she asked.  Seeing them together had filled her heart with such jealousy and pain that she had wanted to bolt from the room.  Instead, she had turned her attention to the gentleman who paid her some attention.

“There is nothing between Miss Foster and me, I assure you.  What about you and Mr. Wright.  I saw how receptive you were to his attentions.  I was mad with jealousy but propriety kept me in check.”

“It was the wish of my family that I should marry him as he was the only gentleman who would marry a woman of color.  I suspect that his reason for wanting to marry me had more to do with my fortune.”

“Is it your wish to marry him?” he asked anxiously.

She shook her head.  “No.  I turned him down and my family was not at all pleased. They fear that I shall die a spinster as there will be no more prospects of marriage for me.”

“Would you have a problem marrying the son of a vicar?”

“Are you asking me to marry you, Mr. Suchet?”

“Yes.”

“Then, my answer is yes.”  Her family would not approve of this match but she could not bring herself to marry for any other reason but for love.  And she loved Lucius Suchet, a man without fortune but a gentleman, nevertheless.

He swept her up into his arms and swung her around.  Then he bent his head and kissed her.  “I love you, Ivy,” he whispered when he drew back to gaze down into her upturned face.

“And I love you, Lucius.  I almost allowed pride and station to rob me of this happiness.”

“I believe that Providence had a hand to play in this,” he said.  “It is what gave me the courage to press you about your feelings for me.”

“I am thankful, then to Providence,” she said with a smile.  “It brought me to my senses.”

 

 

The Suitor Calls

It was Friday evening.  Mr. Read

was to call on her.  She felt a prickle

of excitement at the thought of

seeing him again.  The week had

flown by quickly.  It seemed only

a moment ago when she had

surprised him in the library

where he was composing a

note which he gave to her.

 

After reading what it said,

she set about writing a reply

and mailed it that very after-

noon.  She wanted to make

sure he received it before

Friday evening when he

was to stop by.

 

She stood by the window

now eagerly watching for

his arrival.  Her family

were already in the

drawing-room where she

was to receive him.  She

ran her hands nervously

over the bodice of her dress.

Her mother assured her

that she looked “very pretty

indeed” when she came up

to her room to inspect her

a few moments ago.

 

Her heart skipped a beat when

she saw the familiar figure on

the horse coming up the road.

She hurried from her room,

wanting to be in the drawing-

room when he was admitted

to it.

 

By the time she ran down the

stairs and was seated on the

chair facing the door, she was

out of breath.

 

“My Ellen, how lovely you look,”

her mother gushed.  “However,

Dear, you really shouldn’t be

rushing about the place.  Now

you are panting as if you have

been running for miles.  Do try

to compose yourself before Mr.

Read arrives–”

 

Just then Bessie came to the door-

way and announced, “Mr. Read, Sir,”

addressing Ellen’s father.

 

“Mr. Read,” he greeted him jovially.

“How delightful to see you.”

 

“Good evening, Mr. Turner,”

Mr. Read replied as he went

forward and extended his hand

to the older gentleman.   “Thank

you for allowing me the pleasure

of visiting you and your family.”

He bowed to Mrs. Turner and her

two younger daughters before

his eyes shifted to Ellen and

remained there.  “Miss Turner,”

he said softly as he bowed.

 

She lowered her head in

greeting, “Mr. Read.”

 

Their eyes held for a moment

before he sat in the vacant

chair next to hers.   “Mr. Read,

I do hope you will join us for

dinner,” Mrs. Turner said.  “That

is if you have no other plans.”

 

He smiled.  “I have no other

plans, Madam and would be

delighted to join your family

and you for dinner.  Thank you.”

 

“And how are Mr. and Mrs. Read?

 

“They are doing well, thank you.”

For a while the conversation was

between Mr. Read and her mother

and then her father but she hardly

spoke, except to ask her suitor how

he was and if he was enjoying the

balmy weather they were having.

 

Then dinner was announced

and as they filed out of the room,

Mr. Read offered his arm to Ellen

and she took it, her eyes shy as

they met his.  “I hope that you

will do me the honor of going for

a walk with me tomorrow afternoon,”

he said.

 

“I would be delighted,” she said.  “My

sisters will accompany us.”

 

“Very good then.”  And they went

into dinner.

 

 

Love and Friendship

“I’m just going to the drugstore.  I’ll be back in a jiffy,” Alison called out to her cousin, Derek who was visiting from New York and staying at her place.  It was good having him around, even if it was for just a few days.  He helped to take her mind off Richard or least distract her from her misery as much as was possible.

She grabbed her handbag and headed to the door.  When she opened it, she was startled to see Richard standing there.  “Richard!” she exclaimed.  Her heart lurched.  Joy and dread mingled at the sight of him.  How she missed him.  It had been about two weeks now.  She longed to throw her arms around him and tell him how much she loved him but she didn’t.  She couldn’t.  They were just friends.

His face was pale and his eyes were restless on her face.  “I had to see you, Alison,” he muttered.  “I miss you.”

She swallowed hard.  “I-I was on my way out,” she told him when what she really wanted to say was, “I miss you too.”

“Please let me come in.”

She stepped aside and let him in.  She closed the door and leaned against it for a moment.  He turned to face her and was about to take a step closer to her when Derek walked into the room, talking to someone on his cell.  He stopped when he saw them.

Richard looked at him and then at her.  His expression darkened.  “Is he the reason why you haven’t been returning my calls?” he asked.  “Are you and he–?”

“No.  Derek is my cousin.  He’s here from New York.  He came for the Caribbean Carnival.  He leaves tomorrow.”

Derek finished his call.  He looked apologetic.  “I thought you had left,” he said to Alison.  He turned to Richard.  “Sorry, Man, I was just leaving.  I’m Derek, by the way.”  He held out his hand.

Richard shook it.  “Richard.”

“Richard, I’ll be with you in a minute,” Alison told him.  He went over to the sofa and sat down.

“Is he your boyfriend,” Derek asked in a low voice.

Alison shook her head.  “No. We are just friends.”

Derek looked surprised.  “Really?  Well, when he saw me he acted more like a jealous boyfriend than a friend.  I’ll see you later.”  He called over his shoulder, “Nice meeting you, Richard.”  And then he was out of there.

Alison closed the door and walked slowly over to the sofa.  She sat down.  Richard was staring at her. “How have you been, Richard?” she asked.

“How do you think I have been, Alison?” he demanded.  “It has been two weeks since we last saw or spoke to each other.  I have been miserable.  Why have you been avoiding me?  Have you met someone? Do you think he would have a problem with our friendship?”

“I haven’t met anyone, Richard.”

“Then why haven’t you called me or visited or answered my calls?  I thought we were friends.”

She got up agitated.  “That’s the problem,” she said.  “I don’t want to be friends with you anymore.”

He jumped to his feet and taking her by the shoulders, he turned her round to face him.  He looked distraught.  “What do you mean?” he asked.  “Why don’t you want us to be friends anymore?”

With him this close, his eyes penetrating hers, she couldn’t think straight but she had to tell him the truth.  She owed him that much.  “I want to be more than friends, Richard.  I have wanted it for a long time now.”

He looked stunned.  Then, his countenance brightened.  “Oh, Alison,” he cried.  “You really had me scared.  I was going to tell you that if I couldn’t have your heart, at least I could still have your friendship but, when you said that you didn’t want us to be friends anymore I nearly lost it.”

Alison’s expression was frank.  “You have my heart, Richard,” she confessed.  “You have had it for a long time now.  I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if you felt the same way.  And I couldn’t go on pretending that I was fine with just being friends.”

“And that is why you stopped seeing me for two weeks?  You have no idea how much I suffered during that time and until now.  I thought you had met someone and I was out of my mind with jealousy, wondering who he was.  And when I saw Derek, I thought–well, you know what I thought.  Yet, I would still have wanted to be your friend.  It would be better than not having you in my life anymore but I was relieved when you told me that he was your cousin.”

“Derek was right.  He said that you were jealous.”

“I was.”

“You have no reason to be jealous of anyone, Richard.  I love you.”

“And, I love you, Alison.”  He bent his head and kissed her.

Moments later, she drew back to look up into his flushed face.  “Derek won’t be back until later.  We have the apartment all to ourselves.”

He smiled.  “That sounds good.  You and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

Giving

It was one of the highlights in her life.

To organize a donation drive and then

make arrangements for the delivery

of the clothes and other items she

received from the church members

and to see the faces of the staff

when she dropped them off.

 

It was an opportunity to teach

her daughter Kayla about

caring for those who

were less fortunate.  Kayla’s

face lit up every time they

got out the boxes and went

through the toys and clothes

that they were going to give

to the women and children

in the homeless shelter.  Kayla

was more than willing to give

away her toys and books.  “It

will make them and Jesus happy,”

she explained.

 

Once Kayla went with her to the

shelter and on their way home

she asked, “Mommy, why do

people live in shelters?”

 

“Sometimes things are so bad

at home that they have to leave

and find somewhere else–a place

where they feel safe.  The shelter

protects them from harm.”

 

“I’m happy that things are good

at home, Mommy.  I am happy that

I have somewhere to live.  I wouldn’t

want to live in a shelter.”

 

She smiled.  “Yes, Kayla.  We have

so much to thank God for because

He has blessed us so now we are

blessing others.  Those who

are living in the shelters are

thankful too.  They have shelter,

food, clothes and other things

they need.  And when we help

them, it is as if we are helping

Jesus.  It is always good to help

people.  When we help them

by donating what we have,

there is a feeling that we are

doing the right thing and we

are making God proud.  God

is always proud of you when

you help people.”

 

“When I grow up, I want to

help as many children and

their mommies as I can.”

 

She smiled.  Lord, bless

her little heart for wanting

to be a blessing to others.

And thank You for showing

her that it is more blessed

to give than to receive.

 

Poverty’s Face

She stands there, a glaring reminder of the

society oppresses her simply because

she is a woman.  She stands there for all

the world to see that Poverty is not invisible.

It has a face.  It has a woman’s face.  It has her face.

 

Traditional gender role is enforced on her which

claims that her sole aim is family raising.

Confined to the home, she is deprived of the very

thing which would alleviate poverty–education.

 

She, like other women in Nigeria should have

a new face–empowerment, independence,

liberation.  Poverty among women needs to

be eradicated.  This can be done through

training programs and women gaining

full and equal access to economic resources.

 

Women’s NGOs and other organizations

need to give poverty a face lift and

help women to enjoy the right to a

quality life.

 

 

Sources:  BAOBAB For Women’s Human Rights;  Jaruma