The Phone Numbers

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She was a very unassuming young lady and she had never before spioken in depth about her life to anyone. slowly hesitantly she recounted a life full of let-downs, injustice, suffocation and sacrifice. After two hours, she left with a slightly lighter step than she had come in with. Subsequently there were a series of counselling sesions spread over a few months. The odds were heavy against her, but her determination was even stronger. There were days when she had no energy to go on and I had given her my office and residence phone numbers asking her to call up if she was at a breaking point. She came close, many times, but did not break. And then slowly her counselling sessions ended. Weeks turned into months, and then years. Somewhere at the back of my mind, there was an anxiety, a need to know what happened to her. My ethics prevented me from seeking her out. I had to respect her right to privacy, but very often my eyes wandered looking out for her approaching figure. one day I met her in a lecture. She slid up close to me, handed me an envelope, and left without a word. i opened the envelope to find a "Thank you" card inside. The printed words were routine, but on the left side she had written neatly in her own handwriitng "The past three years have seen many achievements and failures. thre are times when I felt i am losing out on life. the thing that gave me courage to move on was the paper containng your telephone numbers. i did not call you up because i wanted to struggle on my own feet. but the knowledge that you are there for me gave me immense strengh."