Story Time: Changing lives

Published February 17, 2018

It was raining. I was sitting beside the window, watching the sky split open to reveal its contents. The cold outside was making the glass misty, but it could not obscure the forked lightning across the sky that shortly turned the clouds from black to white.

The weather was beautiful, winter rains had always been my personal favourite. I sat there, gazing at the rain on the sidewalk and washing the road. I had a plate of hot pakoras in my lap, which I devoured one after another, for pakoras and rain are nothing without the other.

Suddenly, I noticed a small boy, around seven years of age, walking across the street. He was dressed in patched rags, his arms folded across his chest, shivering with cold. I watched him walk up to one house after another, knocking doors, ringing bells and begging people to give him something warm to wear.

His big brown eyes looked hopeful at first, but when one by one people rejected his plea and banged their doors on his face, he looked so dejected. The little boy gave up and sat beneath a small shelter. His lips had now turned blue with the cold.

My heart melted as I saw the plight of the poor boy. I put the plate of hot pakoras aside and rushed to the door.

“Hey kid!” I called out to him. He raised his head from his knees and looked around. I waved at him, we made eye contact and he slowly walked towards me. He still wore the dejected expression.

All at once I felt intense love for him. I ruffled his wet hair and invited him inside, to the warmth of our house. He stepped in hesitantly and I asked him a few questions about him and his family, and then took him inside the house.

“Mama!” I called out. “We have a guest,”

My mother came in time to see me seating Ahmed on a chair, a towel wrapped around him. I requested my mother to allow Ahmed to stay with us, as he had no family and he was begging. The family who adopted him when his parents died had, made him beg. I also requested mama that I want to teach him and see him grow into an successful man.

My mother was more than happy to give her consent because she always wanted me to change others’ lives for the better. My younger brother generously offered him his clothes and I stirred up warm coffee for him to drink.

Ahmed, on the other hand, was hesitant at first to take our favours but then accepted our offer on one condition — that he would help with household chores. We accepted his offer as we did not want to hurt his self-esteem. However, we decided to treat him like a family member and not the helper in our house.

Ahmed soon bloomed into a very happy and smart child, who eagerly took to studies and I am sure he will one day have a bright future.

Published in Dawn, Young World, February 17th, 2018

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