Hell Was the Journey but it brought me Heaven.

I am a 60-year-old man, Emile. I vaguely remember my childhood days. I remember, that I was an innocent boy and before I learned civility, I used to scream ferociously, any time I wanted. But as one grows up, you know, that showing tantrums and shouting is not the right thing to do. I still ponder upon and ruminate, “When did I actually stop doing that?”

I recollect one incident from my teenage. I was diagnosed with Hepatitis B, which at the time was almost incurable. I had a lot of dreams, to accomplish. I was an aspirant lawyer. I wanted to fight for the rights of numerous women, other Hispanics and black citizens, who had been discriminated against for centuries. All my dreams almost looked unachievable at that point. I was scared and went to my mom (whom I used to address as Mammy), “Mammy”, I said in a fearful tone, “I do not want to die so soon, I want to live more, I want to see the world”. Though my mother, somewhere knew, that it was practically not possible to save me, she still was hopeful. She said “Oh! My dear son, do not worry, when nothing works, the only thing which is useful is, Prayer.” She continued, “The power of prayers is incomparable”. Now, I was completely dependent on the lord almighty, only he could decide my fate. Months went by, I was admitted to the local hospital near my place, and my father came in, and exclaimed “You have done it, my child! You have defeated this virus, you are fit now. I could not have been more proud of you”. I finally was fit and could continue my studies. The tests did not end there and what happened to me next, was completely unimaginable. I was 17 years old, when, my father, James, was driving his car on the national highway when a truck crashed into his car. That was an unexpected and dreadful experience. He was admitted in the hospital and the surgeries cost a large amount of money. All our savings were diminishing now. We had no conjecture about the future. Our brave father tried his best, to fight and live, but even after numerous operations, the doctors were unable to save him.

I was at my lowest point at that time. I still recall, how, I used to hide in the bathroom, to shred my tears. My father was the sole earner in the house, and now that he had left us for his heavenly abode, I had no idea, how would I continue my education. Our savings had already been diminished, by my father’s treatment. My mercurial temperament would constantly make me blame myself for what I was going through, so I went to the nearby church and asked god, “Why? Why do I need to go through all this? When did I hurt anyone that I have to pay this price?” I returned and decided to talk to mamma about my studies. I saw my mother, in the kitchen, while she was checking all the containers for food that she did not find anywhere. I understood that our family’s situation was not much, that my mom could afford my studies. I stayed quiet. I was roaming on the road when I saw a billboard of tuition classes in my vicinity. I went to the address and asked at the reception desk “Ma’am, I want to meet Ms Taylor Bowery”, the receptionist did not allow me, still I kept trying. Ms Bowery came out of her classroom and saw me, pleading to meet her. She told the receptionist to send me inside. I talked about my ambition and current situation with her.

Ms Bowery, being an epitome of sympathy assured to give me tuition for free and get me admitted into a school. My mother was so elated that she could even express her happiness in words. Years went by, and by 24 years old, I was an accomplished advocate, fighting for the rights of discriminated communities. At the age of 25, I was appointed as the chief justice, becoming the youngest person in my country to attain that position. I went from deplorable and miserable conditions to becoming one of the most renowned law personnel in my country, and I owed it to Ms Bowery. If she had not been with me, supporting me, both financially and emotionally, I would never have reached my peak. The comforting sound of her tranquil voice would even make the most dilapidated drum have a serenely beautiful noise. My admiration for her just elevated as the years passed by, not only because she helped but just getting to know how pure her heart was, made me love her to an insurmountable extent. I returned my debt to her, though she tried to deny taking it, still I owed my entire career and success to her, due to which I forcefully returned my debt. 

I am 60 years old now, and tomorrow is my last day of work, after which I will retire forever. Now reflecting on my journey, all these hindrances, deplorable conditions, and still accomplishing my dream, I can finally say, that an invisible string tied me to my goal. Time is a curious thing, it has a weird permanence in its transience. It has an exciting way to turn the tables around, to give the most pleasant and unpleasant surprises. It gave me no signs of my future. God showed the worst of times and then converted them into the best ones. Maybe that's the power of having unwavering, steadfast and unflinching faith, maybe that is the power of time, maybe that is the power of being able to control one's temperament. Hell was the journey, but it brought me heaven.