“I WANT all my children with one woman; and all my children must know both parents. I want all my ducks in one basket.” Those were the words of Paul, who used his father’s given name for the purpose of this article.

I met Paul at church seven years ago.  He was always a quiet and cheerful person, who sang with the worship team. I didn’t know what he had gone through until a friend told me about it.  He willingly responded to my request for an interview, so we sat on my veranda as he shared the story of his life with me.
He was born six months prematurely, on December 29, 1980, to Paul and Mary (surnames withheld to protect Paul’s identity), but he never knew his father. He is the second child for his mother. He has five siblings, but they do not share the same father.
He had spent one-and-a-half years in the incubator at the Georgetown Public Hospital, and many had thought he would never make it.
He later learnt that his mother had attempted to abort him, but as he said, “As God would have it, I live today to tell this tale.” And after a great deal of struggle and pain, he has now forgiven her.

Violent streak
According to Paul, his mother had a penchant for violence, and wreaked her revenge on him in various ways. He remembered her putting him in an orphanage at the tender age of four, and his aunt rescuing him; but after some time, he was back with his mother. This happened on two occasions, and even though she did not treat him well, whenever she felt that his father could find him, she took him back with her.
She moved from place to place, and so did Paul. She always made him feel like a stranger in the home, and she would batter him for petty things. One time she threw him down the stairs; and when he lost consciousness, she drenched him with water. He also remembers her locking him up in a cupboard for days without food.
“I love my mother,” he moaned, “but I really don’t know why she doesn’t love me.”  Many times, he wished, like Job in the Bible, that he had not been born.
He cried his heart out one Valentine’s Day when he gave her a flower and a bar of chocolate as a token of his love for her, and she promptly threw them in the garbage bin.
I sat there and listened as he rambled on, close to tears, his heart broken to shreds.
Among the schools he attended was the St. Barnabas Primary. But he didn’t go very far, for no sooner had he enrolled than he had to quit to become the breadwinner of the family.
And so he spent two years selling “cool-down”, icicles and parched nuts outside the cinemas, alternating between Astor, Metropole and Globe until the last show ended. And he had to make sure the money was right, so, many nights, he would walk home to save on transportation, and oftentimes scoured the garbage for dinner.
And when he could no longer see his way selling, his mother introduced him to her friends in the carpentry, masonry, and painting business; so, at the tender age of sixteen, he turned to carpentry as a more lucrative method to earn an income.

God’s Mercy
Asked how he managed it all, Paul said, “It was God’s mercy. A friend invited me to the Church, and I used to attend the youth group. My curfew time was 9 o’clock, and the activities at the youth group closed off at 9 o’clock; so, many nights, I had to sleep outside. And if I chose to sleep under a window, my mother would put her hands through it and drench me with water.”
Paul said he continued to attend the youth group at great sacrifice, but the effort paid off in the end.
Meanwhile, he started washing cars. He proudly announced that whenever he was finished washing a car, he would drive it around the corner under the pretext that he was trying it out, but the crux of the matter was that he was teaching himself to drive.
As if that were not enough, whenever he had possession of both car and key, he experimented by doing small repairs; and while hanging out with the mechanics, he soaked up their skills.
His steadfastness won the heart of his pastor, and so, at the age of 17, he landed himself a job as driver/handyman/office assistant with the Church.  And as opportunities presented themselves, he migrated to Barbados with his brother in search of opportunities to make even more money.
It was an adventure that proved futile, as his brother used to collect the wages and tell him that he did not get paid. His loss and disappointment were so great, he returned to Guyana a broken man. He didn’t go back to his mother’s home, but accepted temporary shelter offered by the pastor. He was then twenty-five years old.
“I finally got my freedom,” he said.
Paul has since worked at a number of places, including a security firm. Today, he is in the worship ministry, and says he is called to be an evangelist. He is a designated driver in the Government’s service. He has his own car, which he works in his spare time. He is a husband, and father of three children, and plans to go back to school one day. A life which had appeared to be heading for disaster has been salvaged.
All this success, however, did not earn him his mother’s love, because she has remained cold towards him, has not seen two of his three children, and still does not consider him a son. But he expresses confidence in God’s grace prevailing with time.

Same boat
Which one of you could empathize with Paul?  Who among you is facing the same plight?
This story reminds me of my visit to the New Opportunity Corps, where many there could share similar experiences. Paul found some place to escape.  Many at NOC would have nowhere to go, or no one to return to when their tour at the correctional facility ceases.
Had it not been for the Grace of God, I might also have been like Paul.
There’s nothing quite as important to an offspring as a mother’s love. So, moms, count your blessings! Love your sons and daughters! Children, do you think your problem is unique? Stop listening to the world. Stop whining about what people say, for they tell you that you would amount to nothing.
Keep telling yourself that “Greater is He who is in you than he that is in the world”, and live!
Here’s a word for the wise: Some people go through stuff; but it is not what you go through that matters, it is what you do after you have gone through. You have to make up your mind what you will do. I chose to be a better person.