An Unhappy Child

--zazafee

Can you envision that kid in the fierce rain? Composed of a bony physique, a torn piece of cloth barely covering what looks like a skeleton wrapped in skin? The boys' name is Amir; of only six years. Portrait of a tan complexion, pitch black hair, watery eyes; tears barely holding in. An obvious question, why is he not home? Where are his parents?

It was Friday the thirteenth of July,the day that completely changed me over! My mother and Dady took me out for a surprise party as I later found out. The night was tranquil, felt as if the curtains were pulled shut in the sky. Not a single star in sight. Silent wind brushing our faces gave a chill. As the rain started to pour relentlessly, our car broke down simultaneously. My mother and I rushed towards a shed in sight while father stayed behind to check the once roaring engine of the Cadillac! It was then when I first saw Amir. Poor Amir was drenched in ferocious rain, clutched together sat under a tree shed about fifty yards from we stood. Seeing Amir like that felt like a stab of pain in my chest.

When I was six, I thought of what I wanted to play or make up excuses so that I don't have attend school. What were your thoughts? Did you ever have to think about your meals? Or clothing? Amir had to, each and everyday. A new battle to survive through each day, manage a meal or two. I glanced at ma and saw her stare matching mine and we proceeded towards him in unison. As we reached our destination, the hurt in his face was vivid.

I wanted to ask so much, but I was utterly mute when I saw the frightened look on his face. But ma's motherly instincts were on point. Amir first hesitated and then answered "I am cold..hungry.." when mother asked "what's your name?", gently touching his face. His eyes couldn't hold on any longer and he burst out into tears. It sounded like the cry of those millions of Amirs' all together. The car was now fixed and the storm had started to fade, only Amirs timid voice was striking our ears. We hopped in the car along with Amir, and soon we came to my favorite restaurant.

We often complain about where we eat, how is the food, have dislikes. What about the unfortunate Amir? I asked him "What do you want to eat?", he just looked at me blankly; as though he had never heard of such things..'He had a choice?' and choked out "I am hungry". Meanwhile, papa fetched us fresh clothing from a nearby store. To which his expression was both grateful and shocked. Eventually, after he got some food inside his system he let us in on how he lost both of his parents from pneumonia, which I doubt he even knew what the disease was.

My parents had never said no to me, and when I asked if we could take care of him, they smiled proudly and nodded yes in unity. The best gift I received for my birthday. So I asked myself, why do I feel unhappy? I have it all! What about Amir? He has lost it all...The poor, devastated, prey of a drastic situation 'Amir' had numerous reasons to be unhappy. Why should a six year old kid have to fight for a meal? Beg for clothing?

Why is it that one can spend to buy a car or a house, but cannot buy a meal for an 'Amir'? Once an unhappy child Amir is now my twenty years old brother, waving us goodbye as he is off to college, his eyes glossy with the same gratefulness, as I saw in the eyes of that six year old.