Veronica’s dream comes true of meeting Oscar

The short, salt and pepper haired 55-year-old had been waiting outside the High Court in Pretoria since 8am, hoping to meet her hero. She gets a pension and earns extra money selling newspapers on weekends, and proudly showed off the Walka hand-held TV and R150 speakers she had bought from a Pakistani store in Danville, just to follow his trial.

When sentencing arguments adjourned for tea shortly after 11am, Theron was in court GD. She stood at the gate that separates the public gallery from the front of the court where the accused and lawyers sit, and spoke animatedly to the two female police officers controlling access.

She clasped her hands, steepled her fingers, clapped her hand to her forehead, and puffed air into her fists as the two officers listened warily to her. She had her gaze fixed on Pistorius, standing at the front of the court and talking to his lawyers.

Theron kept her eyes on him as the policewomen listened to her, one hand on their hips, grasping the door with the other.

And then it happened. Pistorius walked towards the door, apparently not aware of Theron. The policewomen let her take a step towards him.

She spoke to him, hugged him. He hugged her back. She touched his stomach. She tugged at the lapels of his jacket the way a mother proud of her son would. They exchanged a few words. It was over in a few seconds. Pistorius smiled and walked away.

Theron’s tanned, lined, face had turned red. Her eyes glistened. She beamed. She beamed like a little girl at Christmas. She could not stand still. She looked around, across the public gallery for someone, anyone, to share her joy with. She waved briefly at someone. Then she left the court.

– Sapa