The wind was moody today as I walked back to the fields. It quarreled loudly with the things in its path noisily. After tightening the turban on my head, I wrapped the shawl closer. Then the mind began to whisper lies. “The crops will spoil this year as well. The rains haven’t come for two years. This year, like last year, the crops will be ruined.”
I felt the pebbles on the ground poke into my worn slippers as I hurriedly walked on. I didn’t want to listen to this nonsense in my head. But the thoughts would not leave me alone. I trudged ahead hurrying to get back. The shop keeper had threatened to stop giving food supplies on loan. I knew these were empty threats. That man was himself poor but had a large heart. If he refused to give food, there would not be enough people alive to come to his store. I chuckled at the thought.
As I reached the fields, I stood at the edge and looked around. I could see the saplings dance with abandon to the breeze. Would they drown in the rains? Would the rains suddenly stop leaving the earth dry again? Would the past be repeated? Would I have crops to sell this year? I felt the thoughts slide down to settle as a tight knot in my stomach.
I remembered the words of our village patron Saint. He had wisely told us to not worry about the past or dream about the future. Stay in the present, he always reminded us. Raising my face to the winds, I took a deep breath. What did I know! I was a village bumpkin; an uneducated and foolish man. All I knew was the land. But I didn’t really know her as well. She had her own moods. I was always worried about what had happened badly in the past or how things would not go my way in the future. “You don’t know how to trust.” My wife always reprimanded me as she tried to knock some faith in my heart. I didn’t understand anything, nor did I see anything as it is now.
All around me were lush green fields and the sky was laden with promising clouds. But I did not see anything as it was now. I was simply seeing my fears instead. Shaking my head to shake off the unwanted thoughts, I walked towards my home at the end of the field. I would tell my wife about the shopkeeper’s threat and we would first laugh and then sigh. The next time I went maybe I would have some money to give him.
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Living in Grace 