Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: STEAM (12/03/15)
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TITLE: Mama and the Magic Waterfall | Previous Challenge Entry
By Donna Powers
12/09/15 -
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Of course, it wasn’t really magic – and it wasn’t really a waterfall. It was just a bunch of stories Mama told me. I heard those stories in the middle of many dimly lit nights; struggling to inhale the steam from the shower in order to ease my breathing during my childhood asthma attacks.
Mama made up the Waterfall stories as we sat there in the bathroom of our apartment, and her voice seemed as soothing and hypnotic as the rhythmic fall of the shower spray on the grey-green tiles of that room.
“Once upon a time, God created a Magical Waterfall,” Mama would start. “This waterfall is very special, because inside each droplet lives a heavenly angel. These angels have the gift of healing, and each brings God’s love and healing to those who are sick.” She would hold me close and tell me how, if I breathed in the droplets, the Magic Waterfall would ease my breathing. I know now it was just the steam of the shower, but back then, a sleepy girl was all too eager to breathe in that Waterfall and believe in those angels.
There were countless nights like that, in my childhood. Mama’s voice sometimes sounded tired, and for good reason. No matter how often I called out, she always came within moments when my chest got tight and my breathing began to sound like a rusty gate. And, no matter how often she told the story of the Magic Waterfall, it always helped me felt better. God’s loving care became vividly real to me during those nights in our bathroom. Because of Mama’s stories, I learned an essential truth: God was always there, to help me through those times.
The Waterfall stories were different, each night. I don’t know how Mama thought of so many different details, but they were part of the stories’ charms. One night, she’d tell me about the colors of the angels’ dresses; another night, it would be about the styles of their wings. One night, when the tightness in my chest was especially bad, and we both thought I might end up in the emergency room – again! – she told me how each angel was riding a hippopotamus within their droplet.
That made me laugh, “Mama!” I protested. “A hippo can’t fit into a water droplet!”
She just chuckled, and hugged me closer. “Remember, sweetie: this is a MAGIC waterfall. And maybe they are magic hippos.”
And, a few minutes later, with visions of healing angels on miniature hippopotami, I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Tonight, I wish one of those angels could ride on anything they chose; to bring drops of healing to this room. But it’s not me who needs healing, this time: it’s Mama. Mama was diagnosed with lung cancer a few months ago, and the doctors didn’t find it early enough. Now, she rests fitfully; despite the medication the nurse has given her, and despite the oxygen they recently started. As I sit here, if I close my eyes, the bubbling of the oxygen’s humidifier bottle sounds a lot like those night time showers.
The doctors told me Mama’s time on earth will soon be done, and though I am sure she is destined for heaven, I will miss her so very much. Even though my asthma eased over the years and her nighttime stories stopped, we never lost the connection we forged during those nights. If only I could give her the same comfort she so selflessly gave to me.
So, now, I reach for her hand: one of the capable hands that comforted me through those many nights. I look with love at grimacing face. As I listen to the humidifier, there’s only one thing I can think of, to do:
“Once upon a time, God created a Magical Waterfall,” I began.
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God bless~
This was such a tender and endearing tale.
God Bless,
Claire