Nature wore her splendour in golden tones and everywhere looked so pretty even though our thoughts were heavy at the moment and our demeanours were sombre.
It was Ms. Maisie’s funeral and I simply knew within me that things would never be the same again because no one could be like Ms. Maisie our Sunday school teacher.
Every citizen in our little township had felt the warmth of her neighbourly love and almost everyone turned up to pay their last respects. She taught us more than the beautiful stories of the Bible in this little prefabricated structure built by the joint effort of the community and for a few minutes, my senses conjured up the delicious whiff of her melt-in-the-mouth butter cookies that she always had in a tin and shared generously.
My eyes drifted out to stare at the yellowing leaves of the Dogwood she had planted years ago and I saw a beautiful, brown Owl perched on the wire fence looking back at me. I’d never seen an Owl in my life and wondered if there was a reason behind this. I knew everyone said that an Owl is the wise one and Ms. Maisie was certainly a wise lady.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
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