File:Home my home 3.jpg

English: ...Sometimes, we have to be reminded of our blessings

It goes beyond the crafts of our hands

or desires of our hearts,

I wondered how it seemed that I have forgotten my favorite nursery rhyme, and how sang in it’s excitement “...When shall I see my Home!,” but truly, I did not forget what it means to have a Home, How priceless it is to have a home with a Mother, and how having a Grandmother is more like winning Jackpot, You know, her pot is always open, same as her doors, And the undiluted love that takes me closer to my descendants. I did not forget how she held my arms and called me “Nwam - My Child!” And how I stared at her smile with both my eyes and lens how she made me laugh with no accent, and how I felt the blessings of my ancestor In the kindness of her heart, I listened to all her tales and songs I watched her and saw the cycle of life Glorifying in her gestures, I saw blessings of longevity in every wrinkling tone that was so beautiful! And then I called her Mama And she hummed in response, so I told her, “Mama I did not forget how you bathe me”, And then she reminded me how I cried. Again I told her “I did not forget the Good Old days”, And she reminded me that I was still young,

“Mama I didn’t forget the Omugwo the way you nursed me” I said,

And she asked if really do remembered then I told her “Mama I did not forget the taste of your food”

She smiled and said ,

“Of course, you did not,

Sometimes we don’t forget, we just have to be reminded!”