Arch of hope

As a student I often had to drive the 600km from the university to my home town on my own. And it was always a bit of an adventure. Never more so than at the end of the academic year in December when the university closed until the beginning of February.

I would pack my clothes, sit on the suitcase to get it to close, greet dear Louise – with whom I shared a small townhouse – load my 1978 VW Golf and to the accompaniment of my current favourite music hit the long road. I would sail through the flat Free State landscape until the Drakensberg mountain range loomed before me. One difficult pass – Van Reenen’s pass – to negotiate and I’d be heading down into the hilly green beauty of my home province, KwaZulu Natal. I never expected any trouble on the road and never had any despite my car having been somewhat temperamental. In fact, one day my car actually broke down right in front of my parent’s house just as I was about to drive in through the gate. How’s that for Providence?

And every year I encountered a rainbow on the way. I later came to expect it. To me, it was a sign of the successful ending of another academic year and a promise for the year to come. I’d be looking forward to the holidays and late night chats, coffee and cake with my family.

Last week, I finally got my car back. The delay was in getting a part that computes the air bags. It had to be ordered from France adn took ages to arrive. Dirk set me up to believe that we had to pay for this part out of our own pockets because insurance didn’t want to cover it. I fell for his practical joke line hook and sinker and while everybody at the panel beater had a good laugh at my expense, I could only feel relief.

We drove home – me trying to readjust to my own car after driving a rental for a month. It was an unseasonably hot day and by the end of it we had a typical summer rainstorm brewing. It started raining softly just as we left the panel beaters. As we came round the bend in our street the most amazing sight unfolded before my eyes: A rainbow – spanning the road and hanging over our house. Often rainbows are less clear at one end. But this one was so bright throughout that it looked almost like every colour could be plucked from it individually.

I prayed – with my eyes open, of course – “Dear Lord. I’ve been so down lately. Thank you for this rainbow and the promise of renewed hope that it represents. And thank you that you always stay with us. Amen”

I could almost not wait for the gate to open and I rushed into the house to find the boys.
“Come and see the rainbow!” I called and with Loren on my hip and Marco holding my hand we went to stand on the deck to look at the rainbow. Marco was impressed, but only until he realized my car was back. Then he went to inspect the car – rainbow forgotten. Loren, however, focused on the rainbow perfectly and kept staring at it with such an expression of awe and joy on his face that I stood watching him until it finally faded.

As I held his warm body in my arms I could only feel gratitude.

This remains my child of hope.