They Never Gave Up Faith!

The following is based on a true story of the triumph of faith:

I don’t remember the exact date when I had seen them for the first time, because it was a really long time ago, but I can’t forget them ever. So, I do remember that morning, as if it was only yesterday when I had seen them for the first time in my life.

It was early morning, somewhere around 6 o’clock. The day was just breaking. I was walking in a rush on the sidewalk by one of the town’s inner streets to catch a bus ride from the bus station on the main street of the town to get to my workplace. 

It was a beautiful spring morning. The early morning sky was serenely beautiful, as the sun was getting ready to greet the townspeople. A cool, fresh morning breeze was kissing my face. The street was filled with dry leaves fallen from all kinds of big and small trees overlooking various town shops, stores, and apartment buildings on each side of the street. 

Many cars and motorbikes were parked on each side of the streets. The shops and stores were beginning to open, as the day was breaking. 

The birds were chirping, and only a few souls like me were bustling around, either rushing to catch a bus to get to their workplaces on time or buying newspapers and breakfasts or just walking or jogging as their routine.

It was about a twenty-minute walk from my apartment building to the bus station on the main street of the town. That’s when I saw them, the three of them, for the first time. 

She was a beautiful-looking, brunette-haired, around five-foot-two, middle-aged woman in a blue maxi dress with a pink floral-styled scarf loosely wrapped around her neck.

She was pushing a wheelchair. 

He was a strongly built, some six-foot-and-above, middle-aged, dark-haired man with a crew cut in blue denim jeans and a white Polo T-Shirt with a pair of black boots covering his big feet. He was just walking by her side, as she was pushing a boy in the wheelchair.

I just passed by and looked at them briefly, while the boy in the wheelchair was pointing at things around to show them. 

I glanced at the boy. The boy looked about 11-12 years old. His short, dark hair was combed and fixed nicely. The boy wore a full-sleeved red T-shirt and a black pair of jeans with red sneakers on. It seemed like something was not okay with his legs. Also, he would lift his right hand awkwardly to point at things around the street to show to them. I just looked at them briefly and walked past.

I reached the bus station on the main street and was still waiting for the bus. Then, I saw them coming from behind, walking on the sidewalk across the main street.

She was still pushing the wheelchair, and the man was still walking by their side. The boy in the wheelchair looked up and turned his head toward me briefly. We could see each other clearly from across the street. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Then they went away strolling. My bus arrived, and I got on it and was on my way to the workplace.

I saw them again the next morning, the same three of them, as I was rushing to catch a bus ride from the main street to get to my workplace. Once again, the boy looked at me and smiled, so I smiled back. They walked away, and I got on the bus to my workplace.

I would see them every day in the morning, taking a stroll in the morning at the same time. 

One morning, as I was waiting for the bus right across the main street, I saw that man and the woman trying to lift the boy to his feet by supporting him from both sides, trying to make him stand by holding his arms. But, the boy was shaking, so he lost his balance. Both of them quickly grabbed him by his back and helped him sit back in his wheelchair. The boy seemed very jittery. He stumbled, but they didn’t let the boy fall. 

Then, the woman began to wheel the boy away, and all three of them strolled away.

After that day, every morning for the next few weeks, the same thing would happen. They would both make the boy stand on his feet by supporting him from both sides. The boy would shake and lose his balance, and then they would hold him tight and help him sit back in his wheelchair, and then they would slowly stroll away.

After a couple of months, my work shift got changed. I was scheduled to work the night shift for the next undetermined number of months. So, I had totally forgotten about them.

Some months later, I was back to my morning work shift. As usual, the next morning, I was in a rush to get to the bus station on the main street. As I was walking down the sidewalk, I saw, from a short distance, a sturdy-looking man walking ahead of me, who had held some lean guy from behind, and some woman was walking by their side with something in one of her hands; it seemed like a foldable walker. 

The lean guy held by the sturdy-looking man was walking so awkwardly that he could barely keep his feet straight on the ground, he was shuffling his feet, but he was trying his best to maintain his balance and walk. And the man who had held him from behind was trying to keep up with the pace and rhythm of the other guy’s awkward walk. 

I was watching them from a short distance, as I was hurrying behind them to get to the main street for the bus ride.

Then, I overhauled them, as I was in a rush to get to the bus station. As I was walking past them, I looked to the side and saw those people were the same three of them — the same woman, who had a foldable walker in her hand, the boy, who was now being held tightly from behind through his armpits by the sturdy man. 

I realized the man was trying hard to make the boy stand steady and walk on his own. I noticed there was no wheelchair this time. That’s when I heard the boy say in his slurred speech, but it was loud and clear enough, pointing toward the newly-opened cake shop on the street corner, “Mom, cake!” and then he continued, “Dad, cake!”

The woman, by this time, I realized was the boy’s mother. She put the walker down and unfolded it. And the man who was trying to make the boy stand and walk all that time was the boy’s father. Both of them made the boy hold on to the walker tight. While the mother still supported the boy by putting her arm around his waist, the father walked across the street to get to the other side where the cake shop was. 

The boy was now able to stand on his feet with the help of a walker, and of course, with his mother’s arm around him. I just smiled to myself and walked past them to get to the bus station.

After a few minutes, I was at the bus station and still waiting for the bus to arrive. Once again, I saw them coming from behind across the main street. Once again, the father had held the boy from behind by supporting him through his armpits, and the mother was walking by their side with the same foldable walker in one hand and some kind of a bag in the other. I guessed it was a bag of cake that the father had gone to get from the cake shop just a while ago.

The same thing went on for the next few weeks. The father would hold the boy from behind through his armpits, and the mother would walk by their side with the foldable walker in her hand and the cake bag in the other hand, and I, as usual, would be in a rush to catch the bus.

And after some time, they would come walking behind me. And then, I would see them from across the main street while waiting for my bus ride at the bus station.

And then, one morning, I saw them again walking ahead of me. But, this time, the mother was pushing the same wheelchair, and the father was walking by their side. 

As I was walking past them, I looked at the mother. She smiled at me, pushing the boy in the wheelchair, so I smiled back. Then I looked at the boy, he looked at me too, and smiled.

I stopped and said, “Hello, Ma’am! My name is Satish. I live nearby, and I see the three of you every morning. I just wanted to say hello to you all!” 

The mother stopped the wheelchair and stood straight, and the father also stopped. She said to me smiling, “Hello Satish! It’s nice to meet you. We see you too every morning rushing to the bus station. I guess you go to work, huh?” 

“Yes, Ma’am!”, I responded, smiling back, and continued, “Ma’am, he’s been able to walk now, hasn’t he? I mean I’ve been watching sir supporting him to make him stand and walk. I even saw him the other day when you were buying a cake. He was able to stand on his own with the help of a walker. And now I see the wheelchair again. I hope he is fine. I so loved to see him walk and stand on his feet. It’s so beautiful and inspiring. I mean all three of you are my heroes, and I’m saying this from the bottom of my heart!”

The boy was smiling, looking at me, and listening to what I was saying to his mother. 

“He’s fine now, Satish. Thank you. As a matter of fact, he is way better than how he was about a year ago. It’s just that today our Sir (she was referring to her child as ‘Sir’ in jest) is not in the mood to walk. That’s why the wheelchair!”, she said while smiling. The father standing there was smiling too. 

“Oh I see!”, I responded, smiling back, as I bent my knees and squatted by the wheelchair to talk to the boy. I extended my hand to shake it with his, “Hey champ! It’s so nice to finally meet you. You have a nice smile!”, 

The boy slid his trembling hand into mine and then, we shook hands. Then he said to me in his slurred speech, “It’s… it’s nice to meet you too Satish, and you have a nice smile too!” 

Although his speech was slightly slurred, his words hit my eardrums clearly and loudly. 

“Be a good boy, champ, and keep smiling. I’ll see you tomorrow. I want some of that cake too, alright?”, I said to the boy smiling, as I stood up. 

“Sir, Ma’am, it was so nice to meet and talk to you all. Bye champ, bye Ma’am, bye Sir!”, I said to the mother and father, and the boy who was still looking at me, smiling. We all smiled at each other, and then I started walking toward the bus station.

After a while, I saw them from across the main street, coming from behind, out on the sidewalk to the other side. They all smiled at me again, so I smiled back. As the bus arrived, I got on it.

The next two days were the weekend days, and I was informed by the office people that I was going in for the night shift again for the next undetermined number of months. So, I didn’t get a chance to see them again anytime soon. But, I would always imagine the boy running, and his mother and father running by his side, but not supporting him in any way, just running with him.

After a few months, I was back to my morning work shift. It was a winter morning. As I was rushing toward the bus station, I saw all three of them after a long time — the mother and father were both walking by the boy’s side. 

I clearly remember that day, the boy was in a green half-sleeved t-shirt, black jeans with black and white sneakers on. He was walking unassisted only with the help of a pair of crutches. 

I quickly walked up to them to say hello, “Hi, Ma’am, Sir, hey champ. You’re looking good!” 

They all smiled at me and the mother said to me, “Hi Satish, it’s been a long time, son. We haven’t seen you in a long while. How are you?” “Ma’am, I was working the night shift this whole time. I’m fine. Thank you!”, I responded, smiling back. 

I shook hands with the boy, as the mother leaned to support him. “Keep it up, champ. Keep smiling!”, I said to the boy. 

“Thank you, Satish!”, the boy responded, smiling back. 

“It’s so nice to see you all after a long time, Ma’am. I’m so happy to see him walking on his own now. Your faith has prevailed, Sir, Ma’am!”, I said to them softly in a sentimental tone. 

“Yes, Satish! Faith is the only thing we have, and we are always gonna have it, son. Thank you for your kind words! God bless you, son!”, she said to me smiling. 

“God bless you all too”, I smiled back and said bye to them, and started walking toward the bus station.

Over the next few months, I would see them every morning. I would stop by to talk to them on the street during their morning stroll and in my morning go-to-work haste. Sometimes the boy would be in a wheelchair, but it was only once in a while. On most mornings, he would walk unassisted with the help of his crutches. 

They told me that they lived a few blocks away from the bus station on the main street and that they would walk every morning from their place to the park by the side of the lake, which was located only two blocks away from my apartment building in the town. They had also invited me to their place many times, but I couldn’t go due to my kaleidoscopic work schedule.

I never asked them what the boy suffered from or what caused him to lose his mobility. I just didn’t think it was a nice thing to ask someone about their suffering, but I was always inspired to see them fighting it out together and always with smiles on their faces. I could never forget them, and I never will. Such people are unforgettably inspirational.

After some months, I got a new, better-paid job in the city a million miles away from that town. So, I moved to a new place in the city. I never went back to that town, so I never saw them again. 

I didn’t even take their phone numbers to call them someday. But whenever I feel hopeless or down in my life, facing my life’s challenges, I just remember that boy, his mother, and his father, all three of them who never gave up faith. Whenever I recall their memories, I am also inspired to face all the challenges of my life head-on just like they did.

And now, whenever I think about them, I see the boy running with his parents in the morning on the street of the town, and then the three of them sitting at some restaurant eating their favorite cake and laughing their hearts out together. 

I must say some people do walk only by faith, not by sight, and these are those people, who instill hope even when there is no scope for hope at all. Such people are heroes who won’t give up on their faith, no matter what.

Please check out this article, How to Deal with Life When Everything Seems Chaotic, where I talk about some challenging situations of life, and how you can handle them without losing control of your life.

Disclaimer: Images used in this article are licensed through Shutterstock.