A PIECE

A PIECE OF ME... A PIECE OF MOTHER NATURE

The tropical African sun smiled down on us here in Lagos… the bright beautiful sun gave the day an amazing shiny afternoon, and like every other glorious day like this on this western side of life, I saw it as a privilege to be able to enjoy the ambiance of the glowing sunlight on my skin.

It’s the end-of-the-year season. While other countries are filled with snow, we’re blessed here in Nigeria with beautiful sunshine that comes with strong warm wind that blows so softly it blushes out the sun’s heat on your skin. But this day was quite different. The sunshine was brighter than ever before. It seemed like the sun had shifted closer to our apartment, and the wind kept hitting like it was the warm breath of God.

It was a very bright cool day and a great way to spend my evening letting Mother Nature do her thing. Bright blue skies and white shining clouds printed a mystical picture up in the sky for me to look up to, the kind that had me staying outside longer than I intended, just admiring it, and I unknowingly was enjoying it more than I expected to.

Outside of my apartment was an old tire chair. You could tell the chair was tired and would love to retire by the look of it, having torn spots all over, broken legs, and basically no shade from the everyday sun and rain. The chair had no foam or comfort whatsoever. All it had was a backbone for resting, which was being supported by the wall behind it, and whenever I sat on it, I hardly rested my whole body because I never had the mind to, with the thought that the chair might not be able to hold my weight and was so close to falling apart at any time.

My father’s old tire chair had been there for as long as I could remember. I basically believe it got to the family before me, and you could tell it owned its place here, having all kinds of special treatment and care given to it by my father.

This torn and broken piece of wood had become a huge home for insects and animals. So many different kinds of things lived inside it, basically a new habitat. One time I heard a rat move about inside the chair. Green plants had grown around it, and still it was like a family member to my father.

My father took great care of it even though he always left it outside for the rain and sun to do more damage. He would regularly wake up in the morning to sit on the chair, or on a cool evening like this. The chair was at a great spot for the warm sun and cool breeze, bringing so much joy to my father.

He loved the chair and did regular checkups on how it was holding up, helping the chair stay upright with stones and wooden support, giving the old tired chair all the support it needed to stay there longer. He treated the chair like he treated himself. Never gave up on the chair like he wouldn’t on himself.

I guess old people love old things.

While the day drifted slowly and the sun bathed my skin with warm pure energy, I sat down on the chair for a long period of time, experiencing what my father enjoyed about his old tired chair.

I felt more alive, feeling everything around me, and in a short time I loved the chair. I couldn’t feel the hardness of the wooden chair, nor could I reason about the unpleasant broken backbone the chair had. All I was feeling was bliss and pure beauty in being alive to feel a simpler life.

I realized my father’s old tire chair was more than just a tired old piece of wood and dusty furniture. I also realized this was a piece of Mother Nature herself.

I wasn’t planning on going inside, and I wished the day had never ended. I enjoyed the weather and atmosphere so much I never wanted it to come to an end. To me this was a blessing and a sign to go easy and enjoy the little things in life from Mother Nature.

While having my heavenly moments of enjoyment with Mother Nature, a tiny small ant caught my attention. This lonely small ant wasn’t enjoying the day as much as I was. He was working on a beautiful perfect day.

He was carrying a piece of my father’s tire chair. A piece of foam from the tired old chair, a piece as big as one of my teeth, which was four times his size. But it was so light the wind kept making it act like a kart.

The wind kept pulling the ant backwards, making the ant’s day a living hell. While I was having a wonderful perfect day, my little friend was struggling with the yellow burning heat pouring down on him, and the cool breeze was a wind hazard to him.

The ant would move forward three feet while the wind would push him backwards five feet. So unfortunate for the ant, but he kept struggling and wasn’t giving any impression of backing down or giving up.

I, on the other hand, was watching this and enjoying all the day had to offer while the ant was having a very rough day. A gift wrapped around a curse.

Watching this and experiencing how the ant wouldn’t back down and really wanted it done, I decided to help him move further forward on his journey.

I lifted him up gently with my index finger, his legs shaking in fear and confusion. My fingers held him up, moving him forward in the direction he was facing.

While I moved him forward he got confused and couldn’t understand his sudden movement and outcome, but he still wasn’t dropping the piece of foam he got from my father’s old tire chair.

He was relentless.

To his belief, he had something worth fighting for and worth taking back with him. To him, he had a piece of Mother Nature, a big piece of life, and he was willing to lay his life on the line to get it done.

With hope and belief he would find his way, I dropped him down gently where the wind was being blocked by blocks and the steady sun was covered. My little friend was so confused he spent half his time finding his path back, but through all this he never dropped the foam.

On this new path of unending journey, he found he was not alone anymore.

On this new path the wind was calm and the sun was warm. He was enjoying the day as much as I was, with the added goodness of seeing a couple of other ants down the path.

He marched forward with no hesitation or delay, but before going far, a different kind of ant saw him carrying a piece so big he was struggling with it. The different ant changed course and headed straight his way.

I sat closely watching all this happen and decided not to intervene in Mother Nature, for it was already a beautiful day and I couldn’t make it any better.

He spotted the different ant heading in his direction speedily and with steadfastness. He shifted direction a little and went to the rocky side of the road with a little more sunshine, moving forward while the different ant also changed direction, getting closer and closer until they finally faced each other on the same line.

With the first touch of the foam, the different ant with no hesitation wanted what he had and wanted it without question, like it was meant to be his in the first place.

Knowing all he had been through to get it there, he wasn’t letting it go without a fight.

It was a very short fight.

The different ant blazed off with his prize.

Lost in confusion, he kept going around in circles looking for his piece. He wasn’t ready to accept that it could be taken that easily. His useless piece of old tire foam was all he had for his suffering, and he was so confused he spent the whole time there looking for what was his, even if it was useless.

But amazingly, Mother Nature thought he deserved more than a useless piece of tired old foam.

The strong wind blew a piece of cookie from my hand, a piece just enough for him to lift properly, and it landed right at his feet.

Life has enough for everyone every day.

After that day I understood and loved the tired old chair. I sat more often on it for hours just being alive.

I slept on it one evening and had to spend the whole night on it. I forgot I was outside. I enjoyed every unpleasant moment I got from the cold weather wind to the mosquito bites. It was an amazing night for me.

It’s been months now. The retired old chair has had a really prolonged life, and it’s getting uglier each day, losing its beauty and structure in general. It looks more like a piece of dirt.

But I love sitting on this dirt and enjoying all it brings.

While here, my dad was thinking otherwise. He grew tired of the tired old chair, hated it for being outside his house, and lost the love he once had for it.

On a sunny cool day like every other day here, my father came home with a flat ground mat, planning on replacing the piece of dirt outside his house with the mat.

He lost the beauty he once saw in it but understood the spot was the real piece, and it could be replaced by whatever material sat there.

Now every night and day my father uses his new mat to enjoy all that Mother Nature has for him.

Let life do its thing.