Saving Mr. Banks

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"Ever been to Kansas City, Mrs. Travers? Do you know Missouri at all? It's mighty cold there in the winters. Bitter. My dad, Elias Disney, he owned a newspaper delivery route in Kansas City. Thousand papers. Twice daily. Morning and evening edition. Elias, he was a tough businessman. A save-a-penny-anywhere-you-can type of fella so he wouldn't employ any delivery boys, he just used me and my big brother Roy. I was eight then - eight years old. Like I said, those winters were harsh and old Elias didn't believe in new shoes until the old ones were worn right through so - Honestly, Mrs. Travers, the snow would be up to here - You'd push through it like wading through molasses. And the cold and the wet would be seeping through the shoes and the skin would be raw and peeling from our faces - and sometimes I'd find myself sunk down in the snow, waking up coz I must've passed out for a moment - I dunno. Then school, too cold to figure out an equation.
And back into the snow, so by the time we got home it'd be just getting dark, and every part of you would stink like crazy as it slowly came back to life in the warmth. My mother would feed us dinner and then it'd be time to go out again for the evening edition. "Best be quick Walt, best be quick or Poppa's gonna show the buckle end again boy". Now I don't tell you all this to make you sad, Mrs. Travers, I don't. I love my life - it's a miracle. And I loved my daddy, boy I loved him. But, there isn't a day goes by there I don't think of that little boy in the snow and old Elias with his fist and strap and I'm just so tired - I'm tired of remembering it that way. Aren't you tired Mrs. Travers? We all have our tales, but don't you want a way to finish the story? Let it all go and have a life that isn't dictated by the past?" - Mr Disney

I do, boy I sure do.

It was at that precise moment, in silent darkness, with my eyes staring into space, I felt he was talking straight to me. Like no one else was there. The child in me wept, silently.

Even then the words came to me like a breathe of fresh air, with taste of hope and joyful future. The chance to forgive myself, my mistakes and imperfections, and do better.

Surely the rough, unmerciful current has knocked me countless times, deterred me into unconsciousness, bearing rage and sorrow,  but it has also carried me here. To now. A soft landing, to a new beginning.

And I choose to write my own story now, spread my joy and be a reminder to my loved ones insyaAllah.

Indeed, Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves.
(Ar-Ra'd: 11)


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May those on board be protected always.
Be strong dear families. Let's keep praying! 


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