Working with wood was a hobby that fascinated me. Not yet a teenager and being
part of a poor family, that would be a luxury. The present was school knowledge
acquiring time, not much else.
Thieves Market was a surprise discovery. The merchandise was old but the cost
was low. One could even haggle and bargain. Tools that were rusty, broken, and
unattractive could be acquired for next to nothing. There were a few shop keepers
who gave some items as ‘kosuroo’, (merchandise thrown in for free when you buy
something).
A chisel, a hammer, a screwdriver, a jig saw frame, another chisel and so the
collection grew. A file, a stone or a concrete sidewalk were tools used to remove
rust, polish, and sharpen these tools to new life and usefulness. An airplane made
with these tools, and painted battle ship grey, was a gift to my nephew.
Sometime later to boarding school I went. These tools, my worldly goods, were safely left in my room. Returning for vacation, few months later, almost all my tools were missing from the room. Certain that my mother would know where they were, I went to her. Amma’s answer sent my heart sinking. They were ‘borrowed’ and never returned! I cried my heart out in anger and empty disappointment.
They cost little in money, but they were freed from rust and new life given. So,
they were mine alone.
Now as I look at our LORD; what a price He paid! What a cleansing and restoration!!
Can I ever be lost? Can I ever belong to any other?
Whom I love is mine and mine alone.
Yeanoku
February 10, 2022.
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