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On a hazy weekend afternoon, the sun hung low beyond the purple mist, trapped in a tiny square among plain buildings. The strange busy atmosphere was a breath of fresh air, but in the same breath the eff ect of the long bus journey gave me a moment of dizziness and disorientation.
A surprising, familiar voice was calling my name. That voice was high and delightful, cut through all the noise. It was my mother. In the crowds at the bus station she found me, as though by instinct. One hand took my suitcase and the other held my arm fi rmly with an uncommon and unexpected strength. Her maternal warmth and love overcame my dizziness and disorientation. This small act might be very ordinary to others but to me, it was extraordinary. Yes, extraordinary! Because it was not the kind of thing she usually did. In fact, never before. The power of her grip amazed me. It was a miracle with a touch of the supernatural, as though the light at the end of the tunnel ran from her toes to her head then extended to me.