I fumbled with the strand of my hair that kept dangling across my face. Using that as an avenue
to relax my excited nerves and exercised body that had just undergone a vigorous stress. Unlike
most children, I was an orphan that had lived most of my life not knowing my parents. Hence, I
grew up in an orphanage. For a reason I felt there was a part of life that I was yet to come into, I
was yet to occupy, yet to encounter, experience perhaps.
It had been a few years since I was adopted to a family. That was like four years ago though.
As a little girl of ten back then,a childless couple visited the orphanage. I was playing outside
with my mates when they arrived. I had greeted them as Sister Theresa taught us and in return
they flashed a warm smile at me. It took a while before they came out with Sister Theresa by
their side. They walked towards me or rather us I watched them as they chatted with one
another. When they drew closer to where I was, Sister Theresa was the first to speak. Besides
other coordinators we had, I loved Sister Theresa the most.
She had smooth white skin that glowed in the sun, meticulously arranged set of teeth and an
attractive smile that always made me feel comfortable around her. Her voice was soothing and
mitigating. There was were times where she told us stories about the outside world (pardon me
please. That's how I describe life beyond the orphanage)
That alone triggered our curiosity to know or betterstill experience what it felt like. I watched
as the visiting strangers approached me and beamed once again, I had barely reciprocated the
facial gesture when Sister Theresa called my attention as she lowered her lean tall frame to the
little ten years old me.
"Stella…"she blurted effortlessly as though my name gave her cooling, refreshing certainty
and support. I enjoyed the way my name sounded like a melody from her lips and for a reason I
didn't know, I always felt no one in the whole world could pronounce my name that way.
I loved this woman. I just loved her. Sister Theresa my mentor.
"Stella, please listen to me. These persons here ."she gestured towards them. "They want to
take you and take care of you. Henceforth, you are their child."
I stared in uncertainty and disbelief not quite sure if I had heard the right thing. I was leaving
the orphanage? Sister Theresa,too? I was to be their child… did it mean there were my parents
all along.
"Sister Theresa, are they my real parents? Is that what you mean?"
For the brief moment she looked at me, I saw an expression of sympathy, remorse and pity
written on her face.
"They are your parents now, Stella." she brushed her hands lightly over my hair. "Go pack
your things you're leaving." Then it was as if a feeling of emptiness engulfed me. Even though I
had not left,it seemed like I was already sailing away on a plane boat to an unknown destination.
I was nervous, anxious and excited. I was finally going to see the outside world but I was leaving
Sister Theresa. I had mixed feelings. I knew within myself that I had grown an unusual, special
attachment to the light skinned lady staring at me and as though her warm brown eyes could see
right through me, she embraced me. I never wanted to let go. Never. I could hardly forget how
miserably I wept while I packed my belongings. How tenderly Sister Theresa had held my little
hands. How she prayed for me. How she consoled me. How she muttered my name in that
peculiar melody of hers. How she stared at me as I got into the car. How she kept staring without taking her eyes off until I could no longer see her long immaculate dress swaying to the waves of the wind and dazzling obviously in the sun.