My grandfather Joseph was born in Parish Land, Barbados and was the last of four children. His mother died when he was and infant, so he had no real recollection of her. His father ran his household with a firm hand. Each of the children had a chore and my grandfather was responsible for taking the sheep to the pasture each morning and retrieving them in the evening. My grandfather like most ten-year-olds, had a habit of getting caught up in games with his friends and forgetting the sheep in the pasture. Leaving the sheep in the field left them vulnerable to theft or attacks from dogs. His father was very frustrated and warned that one night he would wake him and send him out for the sheep. Even that threat did nothing to improve my grandfather’s forgetfulness.
One night, around midnight, my grandfather was awoken by his father. He had forgotten the sheep in the pasture and now had to go get them – alone. My grandfather was terrified. In those days there was no electricity, so there were no streetlights or other lights to guide his way. He would have rely on a kerosine lamp and walk more than a mile to collect the sheep. Even though it was a route my grandfather had walked many times, he had never done it in the dark.
Shortly after leaving the house, my grandfather met a lady who inquired why he was out so late. He explained that he had forgotten the sheep in the pasture and had been sent to retrieve them. “When you get home, tell your father I want to speak with him,” the lady told my grandfather. I remember asking my grandfather if he did not find it strange that a lady just happened to be out at that time of night or if he was not afraid that she would harm him. He said it had not occurred to him to be afraid because he was happy to have company and she seemed to know a lot about him.
According to my grandfather, the lady walked with him to the pasture and helped him to gather the sheep. She waited until he had put the sheep in their pens and then walked with him to his house. When they arrived at the house the lady said, “Remember, tell your father that a lady is outside to speak with him.” So, my grandfather went into the house and relayed the message to his father. What lady are you talking about, his father asked. His father likely assumed that it was a lie given the time of night, but according to my grandfather, he opened the door, pushed his head outside for a few minutes and then quickly retreated. On his retreat indoors his father seemed afraid something my grandfather said was very unusual. So, he asked who the lady was, go to bed, we will talk in the morning,’ his father responded.
The next morning my grandfather learnt that the woman outside was his deceased mother, and she was angry that his father had forced him to go out alone so late at night. She had admonished her husband and warned him that ‘she would deal with him,’ if he ever mistreated her son again.
My grandfather loved this story and repeated it to me many times with the same details, so I have no doubt of its truth. I have grown to love this story and I have repeated it to my own son many times. Can a mother’s love transcend the grave? As a mother, I would like to think that it can and that somehow, I would be able to protect my son even if I were deceased. I know my grandfather believed it could and found great comfort in knowing that his mother was watching over him.
3 responses to “A mother’s love transcends the grave”
Tales from the crypt.
That sure taught him! LOL
Love it.
How interesting! Lots of stories and jokes about ghosts amongst Africans as well.This ranks amongst one of the best I’ve heard. Very profound!
Wow this is such a compelling post, I have no doubt that a protective and loving mother will always watch over her children