John McCullagh February 11, 2006
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The next morning my vehicle pressed its way through the sand-encrusted track that was the main street and there I saw Rachel, just as she had said – sitting with her friends.  A smile broke across her dark complexion as she stood up and walked in the direction of my on-coming land cruiser. 


As she neared I reached out through the open window as if to shake hands with her, and pressed a hundred dollar note into her open palm.

With that, I said, ‘Farewell’, then added, ‘Show me what you can do Rachel! See you in about six weeks.’

I left her standing bemused by the side of the road.

As I drove out of the village I peered at her reflection in the mirror, looking back to see if she was looking back to see if I was looking back at her! I was, and wondered what she must be thinking.  There was no way I could leave her with shattered dreams and I knew enough about her to recognize that she would not waste what I had just given her.  Even if she did squander the offering, it would be of little consequence:  what was important was that she knew that somebody cared enough to raise her spirits when she was feeling low.

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