Three years ago, while I was preparing dinner, the salad, in particular, I needed some olives. They were in cans stacked on the topmost shelf. So, I stood on my toes and stretched myself to the max… my arms and fingers too! What followed was a crash, scream, and some blood! The can below the one I had grasped toppled down and landed on my forehead with the bottom rim cutting through skin and flesh. When things settled down after first aid and I was more comfortable and relaxed, Myra, then 3 yrs going on 4, came and sat beside me.
Myra: Dadi, you got a booboo on your forehead? How did you get it?
“The can of olives were too high for me and out of reach. So I stretched out my arms and said, ” Aaja!” (come) in Hindi.”
Myra: Did they jump?
“Yes, but one can of olives missed my arms and landed on my forehead.”
Myra: That wasn’t a good thing.
And then Aly, the older one, joined the conversation. She had noticed something about the wound and she wanted to tell me about it.
Aly: Dadi, God answers your prayers, He loves you very much. You know what, He’s made the blood from your cut flow into the shape of a heart!
“Come on! That can’t be,” I said unbelievingly.
She took my phone and clicked pics to convince me. I had to believe what she had said. It did look like a small heart.
Aly: Dadi, He made the blood in a heart shape to tell you He loves you and also to take the pain away.
Wow! From the mouth of a little girl, I heard such comforting words… such a profound message.
Fast forward to the present. The memory stays imprinted, literally, on my forehead. It’s a shallow furrow and a small elongated bulge along the side of it. Not a mark I like to carry on my forehead.