Treat them with dignity

Hearing the wail of a siren, my Dad looked over and saw the flashing lights of a police car beckoning him to pull over. There was no room for a car to go through. There were thousands of people, some walking, some in donkey drawn carts, which was a mode of transportation for the poor, and others just sitting in their cars observing the procession. These people all had one thing in common; they were all trying to get to the church for a funeral and to pay their last respects. "Who are all these people?", my dad asked, to which of course, we had no answer. Everyone exited their cars and joined the procession into the church. There was no room in the church for everyone, so many lined up outside and further down the streets without complaint.

Inside the church laid the body of my Uncle, the man these people were all here to pay their respects to, and to say their final farewell. He was a gentle man, a loving husband, and father of two, but most importantly, he was the epitome of humane. We all saw him as just a simple man who went to work every day to provide for his family, but there was so much more to him that we all were not aware of. Today was the day our eyes were opened to the truth.

My Uncle lived in a very poor country where strife was an everyday occurrence, and hardship was reflected in the many faces he observed on a daily basis. The country was experiencing riots, discrimination, and a shortage of food. People were desperate. Children were starving, and so he decided to help in any way he could. Some of these people were his customers at one time or another, but now they were struggling to provide for their families. There were long lineups just to buy a pound of sugar, or flour, or milk. The basic necessities of everyday life, but there was very little food to be had. This, however, did not deter him. Whatever little he could put his hands on he gave to the poor and hungry. He did this every day without anyone knowing. The colour of their skin meant nothing to him. All he saw was the need to feed the hungry. There were countless times he put his life at risk to achieve his goal without a single thought for his own safety.

He was a God-fearing man who taught his family to respect all people, and to treat everyone with the dignity they deserved. He never had a negative thing to say about anyone, and could always find the humour in any given situation. He taught his family the true meaning of faith, and his trust and belief in God was exemplary to say the least. This was the way he lived his life to the end. He was my hero, and a true inspiration to us all. To the thousands of poor people who filled the church and lined up outside to pay their respects, he was a friend, someone who cared. Someone who never looked down at them or treated them with indifference.

If only there were more people like my Uncle today, then this world would be a happy place for everyone. We all have an obligation to help in any way we can. It is our rite of passage.

Learn more about this author, Debora Spadafora.
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