Kindness is like a seed planted today, which grows into a big tree that provides a shade tomorrow. We read this story on @DANGposts and decided to share.
A woman was stranded at a eatery many years ago but a man, Mr.Kola came to her aid. Some days ago, she met Mr.Kola again but this time, in a sad condition. She remembered the help he rendered to her that year and decided it was her turn to help him.
This story will make you cry.
I was in my 2nd year in Uni and I had just moved houses. I went to Eko Idumota to buy house stuff for my new apartment. After a long day of shopping, I dragged myself to Mr Biggs Marina. It was after I had ordered, that I found out that my wallet and phone had been stolen.
I immediately told the lady attendant I wasn’t able to pay as my wallet had been stolen. She began to raise her voice at me, that this was a familiar act and I should “gerrof”. A gentle man who was also taking his order decided to pay for my food. His name is Mr. Kola.
Mr. Kola also dropped me off at Ikeja and gave me money for transportation to get home. I insisted he gave me his number. When I got home, I told my mama about him and she called him to pray for him and begged him to please pay us a visit. Mr. Kola visited us twice.
Today, at a gas station in Gbagada, I saw Mr. Kola. Only that he was seated on the floor, a slate of fake CDs beside him, he looked like he was resting. As soon as my car parked to purchase fuel, he jumped up to market his goods to me. I was beyond shocked.
Not like Mr. Kola was rich but he was doing alright. For me to see him selling CDs today left me with an indescribable feeling. I put down my window and I smiled at him, waited for him to recognise me but he didn’t. So I said, “Mr. Kola, you can’t remember me?”
He pushed up his hat, moved closer, scanned my face and eventually shook his head. “No ma. I can’t remember ma.” Wow! So I introduced myself and reminded him of our encounter. Mr. Kola put his slate down, stretched his hands towards me and I quickly grabbed them.
As he opened his mouth to speak, he became lost for words and instead, he cried, silently. “Oh, Mr. Kola, don’t cry.” I said, tears already filled my eyes and I let them pour. It was all just so sad. I made Mr. Kola sit with me in the car as we parked away from the fuel pump.
Mr. Kola told me about how he’s strived to make ends meet for himself and his daughter. His wife and son died in a house fire. He asked me to call my mama, that he would like to hear her voice, that he would like her to pray for him. I told him that we lost her years ago.
I asked him how old his daughter is now, he said she’s 19 and in LASU. I Let Mr. Kola know I’ll pay for her tuition and feeding till she graduates. Life has hit Mr. Kola hard but God put me in his path today. Mr. Kola will be fine too. I’m happy to make sure of it.
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