Fedelma – A tale of hope and success


Where there’s a will…

Fedelma was born into a working class family yet from a very young age she somehow knew it wouldn’t last.

Every penny she got Fedelma saved from an early age from her earliest days… She would proudly listen to it clickety-click down through the piggy’s back of her piggy bank. One… Five… Ten… Fifteen… Fifty… pence… Working her way up to her first pound…

Given the simple condition of her surrounding she didn’t study very hard nor very long and didn’t even make it to O Levels… Still Fedelma was one of those flowers that soar out of nowhere in a bed of roses to eventually tower over them all unchallenged. Nobody expected them to and nobody ever seems to neither know nor understand how… How much strength, how much hard work has gone into that…

Fedelma didn’t stop at a nine-to-five.
She landed a cleaning job at sixteen and stuck to it, clang to it as though to dear life.
Fedelma had got her first solid gold independence token with this first hard-earned wage.
While all her friends went out to paint the town red she decided not to spend it but to save it. And she saved and saved and saved. But she didn’t spare her energy. It seemed saving gave her energy. And she didn’t bend nor bow to the hardships of life. One… Five… Ten… Fifteen… Fifty… pounds… Working her way up to her first hundred pounds… pushing her way to her first million.
People studied, her friends had a good time, Fedelma worked…

She led a simple life below her means even… for she knew one day her call would come. Her ship would come in…
On her meagre wages she still managed to save for a rainy day still and rise and shine every morning. One… Five… Ten… Fifteen… Fifty… hundred pounds… Working her way up to her first thousand pounds… pushing her way to her first million.
People studied, her friends had a good time, Fedelma worked…

Fedelma dusted, Fedelma washed, Fedelma cleaned, and Fedelma scrubbed every opportunity she was given. Fedelma scraped every opportunity she was given. And more and more cleaning came her way. By then she had lost count of dirty chores and her stardust was mere dust !

She was living in her own bedsit by now eighteen… and was not to be led astray from her goal. Boys came and boys went men came and men went but she had no time for romance. All she did was work and work and work.
She worked mornings. She worked afternoons. She worked evenings. And sometimes she even worked nights. She worked weekdays. And she worked weekend days. She worked workdays and she worked holidays. Work beat the rhythm of her life and music tuned her work aerobics.
Fedelma sung her days away for she knew that one day… One far day… One day in her life… would be the day to end her old days…. Donna Summer’s Once Upon A Time was reeling and turning on the turntable in her head… soon to be found on her Walkman. Cause she believed…


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