Their small house stood on top of a hillock. After years of repaying loans, they finally owned it, every single brick, every bit of wood.
They were a family of five, husband, wife, two daughters and a son. The children were 12, 10 and 8 years old.
The house was a modest one, with two bedrooms, a study, a kitchen and a living room, filled with photos, and love, and bits and pieces of their life together.
On this day, the Sun shone a bright yellow, as the radio blared within and the early morning sounds of the three children getting ready for school floated in the air. There were arguments and teasing.
The father had left home early. Breakfast was served. The three children sat down at the table.
And at that very moment, the Earth trembled so violently; that their home shook from side to side. As they clutched each other and watched, a huge chasm opened up near the bedroom, and that part of their home was swallowed up by the Earth.
More shaking, more rattling..and then there was an eerie silence, a silence that was deafening, as the mother looked to see if her three children were safe, to see if they were hurt and if they needed anything.
She gathered them for a hug, realizing the power of the force that had shaken their lives.
They were both inside and outside their house at the same time, with one half of it missing. There was a huge cloud of dust around them.
The mother drew from her inner reservoir of strength. She sent a prayer upward asking that her husband be safe.
Then she resolutely fixed her mind on rebuilding their lives. She was a mother and she would provide for her children, come what may.
P.S: My heart goes out to the people of Nepal as they grapple with the aftermath of the earthquake, to the countless families who have lost loved ones, and who, now, have the very difficult task of rebuilding their lives, both physically and emotionally .