The Early Years ( Page three of your autobiography)
“There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning are more fragrant than ever again” .- Elizabeth Lawrence
Another exciting morning. Through the big bedroom window I could see the beautiful golden sun-beams trickled through the branches. Yes that was pretty, but I enjoyed more of the beautiful hum of prayer of my grand mother from the up-stair room . Then the sounds of rattling containers of tin and glasses, shuffling and sorting a collection of metal pots from the big kitchen in down-stair sounded like a culinary orchestra tuning up. Something impressive was being created by the chef. Suddenly I remembered about the cute puppy whom I rescued from the side of the road and left him in one small room on the side of the staff quarters with a small bowl of milk. I climbed down the stairs in fast feet but the flight of steps seemed endless. I opened the door.”Hi!” I whispered, crouching down to enfold the wiggling brown puppy in my arm. He had long droopy ears, white legs and a small brown tail with a white tip. I scratched him behind the ear and sat there on the floor holding him on my lap. ‘ Are you missing your mom? ‘ I asked him softly and kissed his head. We spend a long time playing with each other until I heard my name.
‘Yes grand ma. Did you call me?’ I said and pulled the dining chair closer to her.I glanced at the breakfast and the big cup of milk on the table. I swiped my bang from my forehead and said, ‘ But I am not hungry and I do not want any milk. Please.’
My grandmother knew all the tricks. She pulled me closer to her lap and said,’ Sure, you are not hungry but I am planning to tell you a long story about a brave king and then after that to visit the book store to get some books for you. If you finish your breakfast then we can go otherwise ..’
‘Wait. I will finish everything. Go ahead with the story first.’ I said with a small smile and started eating the breakfast. The beautiful picture of the books were already floating in my mind.
It was a pretty day just like the other days. I was almost four and half, that I heard from one of my aunt as she was helping me to wear a light blue dress. It had small white flowers on the neck and lots of frill and white lace, one of my favorite. My aunt was trying to make a nice pony-tail before her friends come to visit and I knew their game plan; her friends will sing songs and I have to figure out that song from the right movie and then I will be showered with hugs and kisses. That was not much fun than spending time with the books; my magic land. My grand- mother brought a lots of coloring books and a few picture books from the store. I could not wait to see the books.
The other day in the early morning I walked downstairs, twisted the door knob and walked into the front porch. I climbed up onto a small chair and sat with a coloring book and four pencils; red, yellow, orange and a blue. I liked the quietness of the morning but then I looked through the big steel door with bars.There was a beggar with her two small kids and a dog. She was begging for money or food for her family. I did not know what to do. It is hard to see others beg for anything so I ran inside to the storage room and brought a handful of raw rice, a few bananas and a small bowl of milk for the dog. I looked around for the guard but he was not at the door, so I pushed the door with my little hands. A smile spread from the mother’s tightly pressed mouth to her cheeks and almost up to her hair. Her happiness bounce and touched me.