Another beautiful story of hope and decency.
Quotes:
That was the trouble with any inquiry; one unravelled one piece of the skein and it revealed so many little strands, each of which was a story in itself.
Sometimes it seemed as if the world itself was broken, that there was something wrong with all of us, something broken in such a way that it might not be put together again; but the holding of hands, human hand in human hand, could help, could make the world seem less broken.
“And I feel so sorry for the baboons,” said Mma Ramotswe. “I know that it is silly to say that. But I suddenly felt very sorry for them. They are just baboons, but they are dressing up for the wedding. Why is that so sad, Mma?” “Because it is always sad when people try to do things that they cannot do,” said Mma Potokwane. “The baboons are very sad for that reason.”
What was money? Nothing. A human conceit, so much smaller a thing than love, and friendship, and the pursuit, no matter how pointless, of hope.
That Obed Ramotswe should be remembered, that people should still speak of him; that touched her. One did not have to be famous to be remembered in Botswana; there was room in history for all of us. “He was a very good man,” she said. “He loved his cattle. He loved his country.”
Mma Ramotswe was right: evil repaid with retribution, with punishment, had achieved half its goal; evil repaid with kindness was shown to be what it really was, a small, petty thing, not something frightening at all, but something pitiable, a paltry affair.
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