Story in a box - Final draft

They had changed my life, the African woman with the huge pierced ears and her white drummer son. Even though I still didn't know their names the connection I felt to them was too overwhelming to explain.
 
It all started out with an old leather wallet I found in the ditch years back. It had somehow led me on an adventure to Burkina Faso to find happiness. My life had had its up and downs but by the time I got on the plane it was really time for a change.
 
It was my first time on an airplane. All I had with me was the little glass jar my sister had given to me for my 25th birthday. She said it was for good luck, so I keep carrying it around just for the charm of it.
I can’t quite remember the exact course of events but I do remember the first thing I saw when I entered my hotel room near the airport. It was only a one night stay since I had decided to not live in hotels while I was there. The hotel had little wooden heads all over the place. I was relieved that I had decided to only stay one night because I could not stand the feeling of these heads starring at me.
The next morning I went out to discover a little more of Burkina Faso’s capital. I got to meet a lot of interesting people and the next thing I know is I am sitting in a canoe on my way to the African woman’s house. She offered me to stay with her for nothing more than the antique table cloth I had acquired earlier that day. As we were paddling by huge forest areas, all kinds of different animals and a field of totem poles I felt free. It’s been the first time in months that I had felt this free and relieved.
When we got to her home, which really was a little shed in the middle of the woods, she introduced me to her son, the little drummer boy. He was playing with a stick that looked somewhat like a ruler. He seemed to be content with what he was doing. I asked her why she wasn’t living with her tribe and she explained to me that she fell in love with a traveler when she was younger, had her son and was not accepted by her tribe anymore for carrying out a baby from a white man.
 
I learned a lot from those two. They showed me that it was possible to happy with only the little things in life. I am grateful I had met them and within two weeks they had changed my life forever.  Now here I am sitting in my Mediterranean house starring at the little wooden plate with the chestnuts in them for decoration, remembering the African woman and her white drummer son who had showed me real happiness.