Dear stranger…..

They say charity begins at home and that’s a little funny to me because…. “Hi, my name is Charity and my story begins at home”.

I grew up in a household so cold yet so warm. Cold in the literal sense because where I stay we have four seasons in one day; mostly winter. The weather changes as much as I change my mind. However, the same house has always been beautiful, for the love and abundance that existed from generation to generation kept it alight.

Yes, I did say I change my mind a lot but if there’s anything I am sure of; it is the fact that I am here to change the world. Don’t get it twisted; I don’t have much but in a sense, I do have a lot.

I learnt how my grandmother and my mother gave so selflessly. Well, they do say that a name is what has been spoken over one’s’ life; that it follows you. I guess even though I am not superstitious; there is no ignoring the fact that all our names were relevant to how we turned out. “Dimpho” is my mother’s name. It is derived from the South African language “Sesotho” and it means “gifts”. Then there’s my grandmother whose name was “Lerato” meaning “love”. Of course, then there’s me….Charity.

Amongst the three of us exists the utmost beauty of generosity. Honestly, I was born and bred in a household where poverty was way too familiar. It might as well have been called my brother.

 “Ten days in January” ….

“Four days in October”…..I would count.

I loved to keep track of how many days we went to bed hungry. I was passionate about knowing if one month was better than the next or if things kept getting worse.

“Charity, go help mam Ngobese with her cleaning”; my mom would say with a sweet caring voice.

As I hesitantly went to mam Ngobese’s home, mom would pack her bags and go to the clinic to go fetch ubab Nqobo’s medication and cook for him. Some days; we wouldn’t even have enough food let alone any food at all, but mommy would be worried about how an orphan who stayed three streets away from us was hungry.

“You need to give the little you have in order to make the world a better place” she would constantly remind me.

Our house was a home; a home to many.

 “My brother just passed on” a neighbor would cry out.

With enthusiasm; my mom would immediately try to figure out how she could take the burden off It was never financial but it sure did serve the purpose.

I don’t have vivid memories of grandma but I was told that she would during the day take care of the children in our street while their parents went to work. She would sacrifice the little maize meal we had and would make some soft porridge for them. Mommy would help granny share the bowls of love, and the children would be so happy.

I am not going to lie….there are times when I felt like it was all unnecessary and irresponsible. I am talking about how we cared for the world but the world didn’t care that we went to bed hungry. It made me upset at times how giving my mom was when she came back to a cold empty home. However, she would sit down and I would take her shoes off and rub her feet while she exhaled so deeply and reflected on her day. She would tell me all about it. Like a star, she would light up. It was as though she had a paying job. She would leave home in the morning and then come back just in time for dinner…or lack thereof.

As annoyed and angry as I would sometimes be, I realised that my mom was unhappy if for any reason she couldn’t help a single soul that day. She felt so empty. She would have so much joy if I suggested things I could do for others without her having to ask. Slowly but surely; I got the hang of things and I began to understand why mom loved doing this.

I realized that; we might not have all the money in the world and we might not save every soul in need……but we did have the time and the passion to share. Sometimes, something as little as availing yourself to someone when they need a friend, helping gog’ Bhuntu clean her house because her back hurts, and sharing your talents is enough to make a huge difference.

I honestly don’t think anything in this world surpasses the gift of time. The selfless gift of being there for someone and helping them better themselves or their lives.  That is why I decided to help at a local hospice.

It makes me sad how this place needs so much and despite the many attempts; getting funding is like finding a needle in a haystack. They are short-staffed and need helping hands.

Mama is a little old now but she refuses to rest. She still goes to the clinic to get medication for the elders in our community. She still gives herself and her time to those in need. As for me; I am a student now. I was fortunate enough to qualify for a bursary and I am studying for a degree in performance arts.

I want to use my talents to bring about awareness and change. I want to tell stories that will provoke discussions and also trade my skills with the youth in my community. I want to bring about therapy and healing. Most importantly; I will gather all the youngsters and give them free workshops on how to use art to tell their own stories and hopefully change the world for the better.

I hope that I will one day be blessed with all the money in the world so I can share it amongst all of us. With that being said; that is not my current reality but it won’t stop me. My mission hasn’t, and will never change.

Mom always brags about how the Lord always blesses those who help others. I am really not a religious person but I can kind of see where she is coming from. I have stopped counting how many days we go without food because with my bursary…I can also save a little every month and take care of both of us.

How weird? I just took my eyes off my laptop for a while now just to reminisce about the fulfillment I get from being here. It just occurred to me….I am my mother and my grandma. I am my great-grandmother. I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams.

Anyway, as I was saying…..gog’ Luthando came in and prayed blessings upon me. She says there are many people like me who come in and help for months but their presence is never felt. I guess that’s what happens when you have passion for something…..you illuminate and radiate beautiful energies; effortlessly so.

You see; gog Luthando constantly follows me and wants to spend the whole day with me. Everyone around finds her annoying but I see someone in need of an ear to listen and a heart to understand. She never quite made peace with how her daughter decided to drop her at a hospice while she and her husband have a house big enough to occupy a whole village. She and my mom have become some sort of best friends I tell you. Oh; yes…my mom also comes in every now and then. I think she sees her mom in her new friend. Whatever the case; it is beautiful how she is always giving her what she needs. Be it a hand or an ear.

I won’t lie….sometimes it does get overwhelming…this giving my time and resources thing. That’s why I’ve learnt that it’s important for me to give myself the same love that I so graciously give to others. I admire how my mom always puts the happiness of others first. I just want to do it a bit differently. I want to water my garden as well so I have more of myself to give if you know what I mean: drinking from the saucer because my cup overflows. I just feel like in the process of giving; she forgot that she needs to fill her own cup as well. Hence I like to give myself a break during the week so I can focus on myself and my studies…but my weekends I spend at the hospice.

Sometimes I wish I could get more help. Sadly a lot of people don’t think they can do much without money. Yes, it is true…money does make things a little easier but it is not everything. You know; I always fantasise about how beautiful life would be if I could make photocopies of my family and spread the individuals across the world. I imagine a true sense of community and a better tomorrow.

I am hoping that the next generation carries on this legacy. I will teach my babies to give back…whatever that means to them. Look at it this way; if one person can make a good difference in the life of the next; how happy would we all be?

Random thought….I always make jokes about how the women in my family are the contemporary versions of the beautiful mother Teresa. I absolutely love it.

My dearest stranger; I have to go now. I am hoping this letter gives you some motivation to share the little that you have.

Anyway; I know I said I need to go but just one thing…I promise.

Mom is a little sick and she always talks about how her last days are fast approaching. I try not to think about it a lot but I do find comfort in knowing that her spirit will live amongst the many lives she has touched.

Remember that child I told you about earlier? The one who was an orphan? Well, he is a nurse now and he also gives back. He opened a soup kitchen and serves two meals a day to the kids. The ones whose families struggle to put food on the table. He does this with the help of the locals. He named it after my mother.

You should have seen how much she cried as he officially launched the kitchen. The community was there and instead of just praising him; they acknowledged mom for if it wasn’t for her heart then none of that would have been possible.

My mom gave all she had with so much love; she still does. Never for once did she expect anything in return.

“Wait, are you sure you don’t want to name it after your own mom,” she asked him over and over again.

“I am sure I have the blessings of my late mom to honour the woman who practically raised me,” he said with a sweet teary voice.

From then onwards it was tears galore. One could have sworn that it was someone’s wake.

I am a little worried about how life will turn out should mom leave the surface of the earth. I am worried that the world will stop smiling and that I won’t have anyone to share similar stories with. I am worried that there won’t be enough people helping out.

All I am asking is for you to join us on this journey. It doesn’t matter how you do it but please do invest your time and resources. Give!!! Wait let me rephrase that …Share!!!! Share whatever it is that you have in your hands and your heart. A burden shared is a burden halved, a blessing shared is a blessing multiplied.

It makes me happy knowing that even though I haven’t been able to do much for my mom…..I have her spirit and she will always exist within me! Allow me to rub off some of her energy on you. I promise you the utmost feeling of joy and success – true contentment.

 Charity, that’s my name.  What’s yours?