Down the hill from our home is a community water supply. A single standpost with attached faucet sticks out from a large cement platform. Behind it, protected by a wall, stands a black water storage unit marked POLYTANK in large lettering. At dusk, groups of teenage boys and girls wait their turn to fill their large containers.
We walk slowly and watch as Grace’s container is filled to the very top. Another girl helps as she scoops it up from the ground onto her head in one continuous movement. Although the bucket is now securely centered on the rolled up scarf on her head, the water continues to move and splashes over to completely wet Grace’s face and back. She closes her eyes for a moment and seems to enjoy the cool shower.
She is headed in the same direction as us. We walk behind her, watching the water dancing above her head as she gracefully dodges potholes. Her hair is cut short like all the young girls that attend public school. We watch as her neck, carrying the bulk of the heavy weight above her, sways and shakes slightly. Her T-shirt and most of her skirt stick heavy and damp to her body. Her solid flat feet drag flimsy flip flops along the way.
I should be thinking about how privileged we are to be going home to take our nightly bath without a thought of where or how the water fills the tub. It would be right for me now to worry about all those who do not have access to clean water. But all I can think about is the absolute strength and beauty of Grace as we step on the wet trail she is leaving behind.

Wow! What a beautiful and vivid description. I love, love the last line and the celebration of Grace’s strength.
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I enjoyed reading the perfect description as I could see Grace with, “Her T-shirt and most of her skirt stick heavy and damp to her body. ” Although this is not an easy way to live, you wrote about it so elegantly and even shared how you walked on the trail she left has she moved.
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You wrote about such different life than mine, yet I liked the images you painted on my mind. Thanks for reminding me of my blessings and my good luck.
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What a lovely description, you put me right there in your shoes. Love the title and her name. I associate of course her beauty and ease, but then also the definition of grace being something that is given though not deserved. Our lives are full of grace.
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“Her solid flat feet drag flimsy flip flops along the way. ” Love your descriptions and alliteration!
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“But all I can think about is the absolute strength and beauty of Grace as we step on the wet trail she is leaving behind.” Thank you for sharing how gracefully Grace goes about her water fetching chore, a great reminder to us all to put this priceless virtue in all we do.
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My own post today – totally different and yet not different – is about Grace – and about survival…although the lives in your world are SO different than mine. I am intrigued by your world.
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What a gorgeous description. The detail, the slow unfolding of the scene, the way the everyday becomes particular in this moment. And your last line caps it all off: “But all I can think about is the absolute strength and beauty of Grace as we step on the wet trail she is leaving behind.” Wonderful writing.
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The image of her gracefully dodging potholes resonated with me. Beautiful and insightful.
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Kay,
Thank you for the reminder that many of the things we take for granted – an easy access to water, transportation and utilities – are not so for many parts of the world.
You gracefully shared story of Grace and make me thankful about many many things.
Keep on writing.
Best wishes.
Purviben
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