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A childhood is stolen, when rain does not invoke playfulness.
“I want the red one”, said nine-year-old girl Mariam, her eyes filled with amusement as we were distributing Eid Clothes to the homeless underprivileged children in the queue.
“I’ll bring that for you, promise”, I tell her and notice an agitated haste in her demeanor. She says, “I must go back. If I don’t leave now, I will fail to sell today’s newspapers and starve.”
It suddenly starts to drizzle. I look out from the window and see the children waiting under the shade. Within a few minutes, I come back with the red dress.
Mariam had left.
First published here.
Image source: Pexels
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