Frozen In Cape Town

I find myself penning these words on a rather cold and blustery winter evening in Cape Town. The wind is howling, the rain is gushing down, it is FREEZING; and I, for the life of me, cannot find my beanbag!!!

As I storm through the house franticly in search of the bag in question, opening cupboard doors and drawers; mumbling to myself…I realise how unnecessarily petty I am being in my pursuit. I am cold, yes. My toes are slightly frozen, for sure…. But I am clothed; if somewhat unattractively; in the warmest pyjamas (plus gown and leggings), I am bundled up in a blanket, and I am safely indoors.

I feel guilty about my tantrum now, a little embarrassed at my ingratitude, disgraced by my selfishness. While I wailed, competing with the wind outside. While I stomped about, fighting the cold from within my four walls; for a minute, I failed to realise the countless people battling colder temperatures outside!

The people whose shacks are flooding under the incessant downpour. Those without the comfort of electricity. Those who risk the oh so common shack fires by keeping their paraffin lamps burning. The man on the street.

I feel rather ashamed at myself now, as I’m curled up in bed with my extra thick blankets weighing over me, as I huddle a little closer to my baby boy, as I put my frozen toes against his warm, tiny feet.
So what! I didn’t find my beanbag…but I am blessed beyond belief!!


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