It was an ordinary Tuesday morning. The kind where the sky seemed groggy, and the city was just beginning its daily buzz. Essy laced up her sneakers, determined to stick to her morning walk routine, hoping it would clear the mental clutter she’d been carrying. Work had been tough, home was chaotic, and her soul… well, it just felt tired. She needed a break—a sign, maybe.
As she set off down her usual route, the streets were quiet except for the chirping birds and the occasional jogger. She tried to let the rhythm of her footsteps free her mind, shake off the stress that had been weighing her down for weeks.
Turning a corner, she noticed an older woman sitting on a bench by the park. The woman’s silver hair shimmered in the morning light, and she wore a soft, pale blue dress. There was something peaceful about her, so much so that Essy found herself slowing down as she approached. The woman looked up and smiled—a warm, wise smile.
"Ni siku nzuri, si ndio?" the woman said. Essy stopped, surprised by the calmness of her voice. “Eeh, sana” she replied, though her mind was still tangled with the stresses of life. The woman patted the bench beside her. “Karibu kiti.”
Essy hesitated, but there was no rush. She had time before work, and something about this woman’s presence intrigued her. She sat down, feeling an odd sense of calm wash over her, like she had just let go of a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
“Nimekuona mara mob ukipita hapa,” the woman said, her gaze gentle but focused. “Inaonekana you're always lost in thoughts.” Essy chuckled softly, “Yeah, si ni life lakini,” she admitted, looking down at her hands.
The woman tilted her head slightly, as if seeing beyond Essy's words. “Ni rahisi kupotea ukiwa na mizigo mingi. Lakini kumbuka, hauhitaji kutembea hii safari peke yako.” Essy frowned, feeling like this wasn’t just a casual conversation. “Uhm,najua… I mean, I pray and all, but si ni life,you know.”
The woman smiled knowingly. “Kuomba ni poa,but do You take time to listen?" That question caught Essy off guard. Did she listen? She had always thought of prayer as talking to God, asking for help, guidance, and strength. But listening? That was new.
The woman glanced at the sky. “Sauti ya Mungu haiko lazima iwe kubwa. Wakati mwingine inakuja kwa utulivu. Ni pale unapotulia na kutulia kwa moyo, ndipo unasikia vizuri.” Essy swallowed, her throat tight. When was the last time she really stopped to listen? Life had been a constant race, and her prayers had become more like a checklist of requests.
“Uh..uh...I guess I’ve been too busy running,” Essy admitted quietly. The woman placed a gentle hand on Essy's. “The world will give you reasons to run every day. But the most important journey is the one you take within yourself.”
For the first time in a long while, Essy felt something shift. Maybe the weight she had been carrying wasn’t just about work, or home, or the daily stress. Maybe it was the weight of not truly connecting with the One who had been there all along, waiting for her to slow down and listen.
Before Essy could respond, a group of children ran by, laughing and playing. She glanced at them for a moment, but when she turned back, the woman was gone. The bench was empty. Essy blinked, her heart racing. She looked around, but there was no sign of the woman. Only the soft breeze and the morning sun rising higher into the sky.
As Essy walked home, she felt lighter, as though the burden she had been carrying had lifted. She didn’t have all the answers, but one thing was clear: she wasn’t walking alone. And for the first time in a long time, she stopped talking—and simply listened.
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