A Prisoner of Birth.

Usually, when I went to my parents’ house and spent the night, I would sleep in my sis’s bedroom. It’s a nice little bedroom with windows overlooking my neighbor’s little garden and attached to a little walkway to my other sis’s bedroom. It’s a sad thing though that the neighbor has cut off the cool shaded hibiscus tree recently where the squirrels used to play hide and seek and all sorts of birds and butterflies used to flutter around..

Oh well. Anyway, as I came to the room the other day, a horrible horrible smell embraced my entrance. My mom and sis said the smell has lingered around for a couple of days, perhaps due to the dead baby bird found the day before at the back alley below the room. Hmmm.. How could the smell be that bad since what was left of the chick was just its skeleton? I slept over that night with my sis burning a lovely scent before we went to sleep. I was engrossed with Jeffrey Archer’s “A Prisoner of Birth” and determined to finish it the next day.

When I woke up the next day, with the scent vaporized in the air, that smell was still there. I had to find the real source and opened the door to the little walkway that was stuffed with my sisters’ clothing on standing hangers and a small cupboard. Suddenly I felt something soft and small creeping under my feet. ARGHHH! MAGGOTS!! And lots of them on the floor under the hanging clothes. Still, I couldn’t see where it came from. I almost puke but I gotta get rid of them fast. Armed with a vacuum cleaner few minutes later, I spent about 15 minutes to suck them out of their smelly lives. My mom came to help.. but the weird thing was they kept coming out of no where.

Suddenly my mom screamed as one has dropped on her face. Eeeww! (Glad that wasn’t me) Then we both stood in a corner just to observe the mystery revealed. One by one maggots kept dropping and jumping and crawling on the floor. We looked up and realized they were coming from the ceiling. There was a wet spot over the fluorescent lamp. Half an hour later, my dad’s friend, who’s the handy-man in the neighborhood, came to the rescue. He cut off the wet spot and down came the dead rotting rat. No.. I wasn’t there to witness it. Had to take the second shower that morning. Eew. eew.

Perhaps, the maggots are somewhat a prisoner of birth. When I first read the novel, I was desperately trying to understand just what it meant, what does the title referred to..? Almost at the end of the story, there was a line in the book said by a character named Mr. Munro who was asked to be a witness in the court, ” They are both oaks, even if they were planted in different forests. But then, m’lord, we all suffer in our different ways from being prisoners of birth.” While most of us will squirm at the sight of maggots, there are made to help us. Their presence are unsightly indeed but they’re actually doing a noble thing getting rid of dead beings. Even modern medicine are calling them ‘microsurgeons’ as they could be used in therapy to heal wounds.

It just made me think, WOW… God Almighty, again You astound me with Your creations. Even if I am one of prisoners of birth, this life is meant for me and it is for me whether I like it or not. I just have to be the best I could be.. but at times, being an imperfect being as I am- it’s easier said than done.