A Short Story – The Charity Box
Photo credit: hotblack from morguefile.com
Dear God,
I would first like to thank you for patiently reading my letters everyday, which I secretly write out to you and post them in ‘daan peti’ (charity-box) in your temple near my house. How it reaches you everyday, and how you take care of whatever I ask for, is something I never understand.
Remember how I wrote to you last year about being lonely, without that special-someone who could love me till eternity? I honestly didnt think you would send that someone so quickly in my life! I was just venting out my feelings in anger. But thank you so much for fulfilling my request.
Yesterday morning only, I got up and went to the kitchen to get my breakfast. My father came behind and informed me, “Neelu, your mother is fine now and remember the ambulance I told you about which was in some problem which only your mother could fix? It is also fine now, so your mother will come back today to live with us.”
I didnt know what to do or how to react then so I quietly picked my food and ate it alone, like I have been doing all these years. After all I am 11 now and can eat my food by myself, even though I dont remember my mother ever feeding me anyways.
In a couple of hours, all our relatives and papa’s friends gathered at our house, leaving very little space for me to play with cousins. Then that long white ambulance came. Out stepped my father supporting a lean, very weak and old woman who I later found out was her. Everyone starting smiling on seeing her, though her face wasnt exciting enough for me. With great difficulty she walked in and settled in papa’s room on the bed.
My granny also came from Haridwar and she told me to go and meet my mother. But I was scared and doubtful if she really was her. Then she showed me some old pictures where I am sitting in her lap and playing. If you ask me, the woman in those pictures and the lady resting on bed were two different people!
Anyway I went near her bed. She smiled looking at me and caressingly extended her arms. Her touch felt so good as she played with my hair. I dont know why but she didnt speak anything, still people all around us started crying. I think they were happy about my reunion with my mother, but is tears the only way to express happiness?
Later in evening everyone left and just me, papa and mumma were there. Papa went out to prepare dinner so I kept sitting near her. She didnt speak a single word, just kept playing with me and touching me lightly all over. I dont know, but really it was magical to be near her. She occasionally tried to talk but words just didnt come out. I think she was trying to ask about my school and so I brought my bag and showed her my notebooks. I also showed her my drawing-book. A particular drawing where I drew her, papa and me standing outside our hut under the blue sky and near the lake; got her emotional. Her eyes started glistening again. Why do adults cry all the time!
I slept with her all night. It was the first night of my life that I slept and spent with my mother, and I cannot tell you how happy I was this morning. She cuddled me as I got up, insisting from her actions that I should not leave her. But I assured her I will be with her again when I come back from school. I went to school very, very happy today.
Thank you god for bestowing upon me, so much happiness that I cannot tell. I know I always used to send letters full of complaint to you about something or the other in past, but today’s letter is only out of gratitude. You finally agreed to give me that someone special that I had always been craving for. So what if she has to return back to her ambulance this afternoon, as papa told me that she had some unfixed issues in that ambulance and will be back after that, maybe by evening. I still cherish the day spent with her and am looking forward to her coming back once the ambulance is fine.
I hope you will help mummy fix the problem of her ambulance soon enough so that she could come back to me later today.
Yours lovingly,
Neelu.
PS: I used to work as a volunteer for this temple trust, and was handling the charity-box that day, when I got hold of this letter. On enquiring later, I found out – Neelu’s mother could not survive this visit to hospital and never got together with her again.
****A TRUE STORY****
