The Tribune

EDITOR, The Tribune.

As I walked to the corner to catch the 21 bus, something inside kept telling me that this would be one of the best days I had ever had.

Not knowing what to expect I eagerly awaited the events that would unfold. Once I arrived at my bus stop, I observed several groups of children standing around making merry as they waited for their bus to take them to school. When the first bus arrived, one group got on, the second and third, and another until everyone was gone.

That is when I noticed a boy of about fourteen standing alone. Curiosity got the best of me, and I just had to find out his reason for not joining any of the other groups.

He appeared to be rather timid and was somewhat reluctant to engage in conversation with a stranger.

But after a little prodding he opened up and went on to tell me that the groups that got on the buses were gang members. By now the cat had taken over completely and I just had to find out more. So as we waited for the next bus I asked questions like why he was not a gang member and how come he was not intimidated by them. His explanations were simple and direct.

Number one his mother would kill him if she ever dreamed he was in a gang and number two he would rather face up to the gangs than the wrath of his mom.

His mother, a single parent of four children two boys and two girls, him being the eldest, works two jobs seven days a week to take care of them.

While she could not afford to buy them Jordan’s and polos she provided them with the essentials of life. They were always clean and well fed. She was a God-fearing woman who taught them the principles of Godliness.

She was a fantastic woman, both mother and father to them. He had no intentions of letting her down, and as the eldest of his siblings, it was his duty to be an excellent example for them.

Before I had any more time to be blown away by this extraordinary young man, his bus arrived, and we had to part ways. Wow. This was indeed one of the best days I have ever experienced in my entire life.

His name is Jamaine, and I’m sure there are many more Like him. To all of the Jamaines in the world, I salute you and your mom.

This poem written by John Greenleaf Whittier called “The Bare Feet, Boy” is dedicated to you wherever you are.

Blessings on thee, little man,

Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!

Happy if their track be found

Never on forbidden ground;

Happy if they sink not in

Quick and treacherous sands of sin.

Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy,

Ere it passes, barefoot boy!

Cheerily, then, my little man,

Live and laugh, as boyhood can!

Outward sunshine, inward joy:

Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!

From my heart I give thee joy,

I was once a barefoot boy!

Be encouraged little man. God bless you. Keep on making your mom proud.

God bless the Bahamas.

ANTHONY PRATT

Nassau,

May 31, 2022.