When I started this column, I never expected to gain so many readers, it’s a small budget newspaper and I do an everyday article, talking about my days and encounters. I didn’t even dare imagine receiving fan mails or letters one day.
Yesterday a woman emailed me. She asked to meet me. I was so happy but at the same time tensed because, as you all already know, I use a pseudonym as a writer. I asked her to describe her outfit then told her I’d approach her at the meeting place. Surprise, the woman in question was a future mother, pregnant to the point to explode. She looked really nervous but I guess it was too much stress to begin with. Soon after, I recognized her, she started to scream and would keep her hands on her belly. Her pants were now soaked and a bit red. Not only did her water broke but she was also loosing blood. I wanted to help but I was frozen because of the shock. The people around her were moving too much and now she was struggling from the pain and the too excited environment around her. People were screaming for an ambulance but it was taking its sweet time to arrive. Suddenly came a boy, with dark black hair and a long coat, I could barely see any other part of him. He took the woman in his arms and said he’d take her to the hospital. Before anyone could protest, he started walking and the woman stopped screaming and slowly calmed down until she fell asleep. That might be why nobody complained either. Later, I received a mail from the woman , she was now doing okay and had given birth to a healthy baby girl, she named her Heliel after her rescuer.
This is a great lesson for me and for some of us who can sometimes easily lose it under pressure. Let’s all better ourselves. There are now first aid classes held every weekend in the room next to the coffee shop. I’ll recommend you all attend it, you never know when you might be in a situation where you have to save someone or you have to be saved yourself (it’d definitely be a relief to be handle by certified helper). I’ll myself take my advice and we might even bump into each other.
Until then fellow readers,
After, I finished writing my column, I sent it to the editor and poured myself some coffee, wondering if I’d ever get to see the boy again. She said she didn’t see him really clearly because she passed out just after but she clearly remembered the black shoulder length hair, a lingering smell – a mix of ashes, soil, pollen and vanilla (I’d really love to know what that smell like, leave it to a pregnant woman to be so precise about the most unexpected things) – and his bright light colored eyes. She said she learned his named thanks to the nurse, to whom he only gave his first name and went away. Meheliel, he said. Are my dreams coming true??
Memories of my naive love