Gratitude turns what we have into enough

Yesterday I saw a lady running down the road I always take on my route home. She was about 45, a black lady, a domestic worker.

I stopped my car, mid-conversation with my mom on the phone, switched on my hazards and flung open my door. I thought she was late for her train, so I gave her a lift.

We had a conversation while driving her home - and I could hear that she was quite an educated lady. I really liked her. We spoke about her life; she has three kids - aged 26, 23 and 21 – all at college. “My little salary doesn’t really contribute enough to their education,” she says. I ask her about a spouse. “Never been married.” How about a boyfriend? “He passed away seven years ago. Committed suicide.”

She explained to me that she was running because the sun is setting earlier now and it’s getting dangerous for her to walk alone at night. I ask about her salary, if she gets transport money and she discloses. R1 800 a month. I see people spend that on a shirt in a day.

As I was driving out of the suburb with its massive houses, pristine gardens, the BMWs and Mercedes’s in their driveways, out of the plush lifestyle – where people can also easily spend R 1800 on a meal – I feel angry. Loathing.

As we move into the squalor of the Primrose squatter camp, I wonder if her employers have ever seen where she lives, if they see the absolute despair that hangs over this area like the anthracite smoke that pours from the large kettle drums - a necessity if you want to stay warm.

“I used to live with them, my employees, in a garden cottage. But then they started asking me to pay rent, electricity, and water – you know. I had to move out, I couldn’t afford it.”

I ask about her education. “I have a diploma in cooking, I went to a cooking school. I want to start my own baking business, maybe bake some wedding cakes, but the money is always a problem.”

I suggest that she starts small, perhaps with cupcakes and then build her business up. She agrees. I drop her off where she asks me too. “God bless,” she says and off she goes.

Driving back from the informal settlement, back to my plusher-than-hers life, I am grateful. Grateful for ambition and a strong mind, grateful that she is aiming for something better and trying to improve herself. I am grateful for the life I have and that I can use what I have to share with others.

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*Photo via We Heart It
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