Why me..!

I WONDERED what example to give for today’s piece when I remembered something that happened to me in which I too cried out, “Why me?” It happened some years ago when my wife and I had driven down to the sea side with a group of friends for a holiday.
One morning we decided we would go down to the wharf and buy crabs. We bought the crabs from Alibaug and were returning in a Maruti van when a state transport bus stopped in front of me. I saw that most of the people in the bus were getting off and switched off engine and waited. Suddenly the bus started reversing and reversed right onto my van. It happened in a moment and the next second I was sitting in my seat with the bus nearly on my lap, windshield smashed, pedals twisted and dashboard broken.
I got out, luckily unhurt looked up and whispered with tears, “Why me Lord? There must be thousands asking this same question everyday. “Why me?” when they suddenly lose job, when sickness attacks, when jilted in live, “Why me? “Why me? “Why me?”
Arthur Ashe the legendary Wimbledon player was dying of AIDS through a blood transfusion. From around the world he received letters from his fans, one of which conveyed: “Why did God have to select you for such a bad disease?”
To this Arthur replied: The world over-50 million children start playing tennis, 5 million finally learn to play tennis. 500,000 learn professional tennis. 50,000 come to the circuit. 5000 reach the Grand Slam. 128 reach Wimbledon. 4 to the semi- final and 2 to the final.
When I finally held the cup, I never asked God, “Why me?” And today in pain, I should not be asking God, “why me?” I go back to the accident I had with the Maruti van. When I looked up and shouted “Why me?” had I already forgotten other wonderful picnics with sea and sand where I had spent lovely times with the wife and kids. There were pieces of glass all over me but not a scratch, did I ever look up and whisper, “Thank you God for saving my life.” No, I didn’t. Two days ago I spent sad moments at funeral of a friend’s wife.
When he saw me, he wept on my shoulder, “Why me Bob?” he sobbed, “Why me?” I didn’t say anything I just grieved with him. But when I meet him again, which I will, I plan to tell him to remember all the happy times he spent with her.
The wedding, the honeymoon, the day their daughter was born, the day his daughter entered medical school, so many lovely incidents, which he can now recollect and say, “if I can accept all the good things Lord, I accept even this..!”
—Email: bobsbanter@gmail.com

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