The Glorious Treasure
t was that time of the day, a perfect time, when the enterprising women came back from the green market. With the women carrying their merchandize on their heads and their babies on their backs. As they walk down the road, they speak of the day's business and the friend who is not present with continual bursts of laughter. A cymbal clutter of frail old hands intermittent the verbal exchange, not of old friends greeting, but a hiS- symbol of mutual enjoyment. A perfect time.
It was that time when the people treading down the dusty roads of Chikangwe Township in the heart of the farming community of Hurungwe in Karoi, will be semi-zombies. Their minds hovering between the spent day and the coming night. All that fills the people will be what they have done and what they will do. What they will eat will be a subject of inquiry in their tired minds, juxtaposed with what they ate for lunch, breakfast or brunch, if ever they had either. A perfect time.
A woman, in a green apron, a head-kerchief sandwiched by a basket full of fruits, mangoes and oranges, and frail old head painted with gloom and misery, strolled down the road. She sang a sweet melody to pacify her child who had had enough of the dreary day, so it seemed. Suddenly, she kept quiet. Right in front of her was a twenty-dollar bill. She clapped her hands, a symbol of gratitude and written a broad smile all over her face. This was her day, she thought. A perfect time.
With the twenty dollars, she could buy all of her week's groceries. She tried to pick the bill, but it moved away. Was it the wind? She looked around, there was no wind, and neither was there anyone looking. She tried again, this time without her wares. Again the twenty-dollar bill moved.
What is going on?
Before she could answer herself, I could not control myself and laughed hysterically like a tickled baby cooing on a crib. Earlier during the day coming from school, I found a twenty dollar note and designed a way of having fun with the money before my mother took it away from me. We tied the money with a string underneath, then hid the string in the dirt. At my house, there were big rocks so we hid behind them. I would sit on top of one of the rocks, and if anyone tried to pick the money, I will signal my young brother to pull the string. And the twenty dollar bill moved. Enriched in Everything The first letter of Paul to the church