Dear Mr. Mandela,

I would have preferred to write you an old-fashioned letter on real paper but in this technological age I have no choice but to revert to an e-mail.
The fact that I currently live and work in Singapore certainly plays a role too. Then again, an E-mail is quite fitting as it shrinks distance, almost to the point of eliminating it.

In a way this is how I feel about your presence and influence in our country.
Mr. Mandela, you "shortened" the distance between the various groups in our country in so many wonderful ways.

The first time I heard of you was in 1990. As an Afrikaner schoolgirl of fourteen years old, I was ignorantly unaware of you.

At that time my mother recently moved us (my two younger brothers and I) from the Freestate to the town of Rustenburg. We lived in a small house next to the railway track and this is where I firsthand came to witness how deeply revered you are. On the day of your release every single train passing our brownstone house had people hanging from the windows. They were celebrating and waving banners with your smiling face on it. It was one huge party.

My interest was piqued and I read more about your life - at one stage stealing the neighbour's Sunday paper wedged into the fence as there was an entire feature about you.
Of course I could've asked the neighbour for the paper once he was done, but he had dogs. Vicious dogs!

Four years later the first free and fair election took place in South Africa and I voted for your party. You smiled down at me from an ANC voting poster taped to the corner streetlamp in front of our house. I must confess to taking the poster down late one evening after the elections. It was absolute bliss studying your photo up close, noticing the tiny moles and loving smile.

Fast forward a few years to 1997 - I'm working at the Johannesburg High Court's common room in the heart of the city. Our instructions were to cater for a high tea and deliver the treats to one of the Judge's chambers at the High Court. It was not an unusual request and after we set the area and headed back to the Common room we could detect some excitement in the air. The waiters and I quickly walked down to the area just beyond the entrance to the court and this is when we heard that you, Mr Mandela was on your way. I nearly fainted when I heard the news. If my memory serves me right someone actually did faint that day when you and your entourage entered the building. Madiba, you were so tall and so very regal. Your presence was calming to the point that a hush descended over all of us. We were just in awe. You were greeting some of us by hand and somehow I found myself in the front. I extended my hand and while looking into your eyes I felt the warmth of your hand as you acknowledged mine. It was all over in a split second but that moment will be in my heart untill it stops beating one day.

Mr. Mandela, I must confess that I smelled my hand afterwards. Not because I'm silly but because I like to involve all my senses in this world. Point is, my hand faintly smelled of vanilla and even today when I smell vanilla while baking a cake I have a flashback of your gentle eyes.

And that memory makes me very happy indeed.

It took me a number of years to realise just how important moments of happiness are in this world. Not only because these moments are fleeting by nature but mainly due to its rippling effect to spread joy and love to others.
I'm busy with a mini-project of documenting the happy moments of those near and dear to me. And that would include you, Madiba.

The project does not have a name, yet (maybe that is why I call it a mini-project).
All it involves is tracing your hand's outline on a piece of paper and plotting/illustrating/writing about what gives you joy.

A good friend of mine, an Austrian lady teaching Yoga in Hong Kong agreed to share hers as an example. Please see Monika's hand enclosed. I am priviliged to be surrounded by a number of inspirational people as I'm sure you'll gather from Monika's art.

Madiba, I've been carrying this letter in my heart for a while - I hope it finds you well and happy.

With deepest gratitude,

Juria Maree