Sangsāra, part 3


Part 3

She turned around to look at him.
"Who are you?"
"My name is David"
"How do you know my daughter's name?"
"You told me.  But I know her name is supposed to be Arta.  Why isn't it?"

Lillian's mind was flooded with memories of Death and sorrow and unbearable sadness which she had only just come to terms with - and how, in that sadness, she decided not to name her daughter Arta.  It was a name that THEY had chosen.  But they weren't 'they', anymore.

"That's none of your business.  And how do you know all this?  Just who are you?"

"I'm just a person, that's all.  And I don't know how I know any of this.  At all.  I just know I do.  For months now I've been driven out of my house by urges like I've never experienced before.  I've been wandering all over the city, into places I have NEVER been before.  I don't know why - but I CAN say that now I know that the urge is gone.  It's like I've found what I've been looking for.  You and Arta.  You are what I've been looking for."

Lillian looked into his face, his eyes.  She felt the honesty in him.  She could hear it in his voice.

"Look, I don't know you or anything about you, but I sense you mean what you say so I'll tell you this.  My husband is dead.  He was killed in a traffic accident 3 months ago.  It was a week before Jennie was due to be baptized and I couldn't do it.  I just couldn't give her the name that WE had picked out for her.  I gave her my mother's name, instead.  He's not here.  I am."

Her lip started to quiver and tears started to well up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Lillian.  I am so sorry."

Ndinombethe, ubuntu.