The Orphan Child

Chapter 10

The rain had chosen wisely to pour upon the withering plants late afternoon and had not stopped showering it's blessings everywhere ever since.

A curly haired boy marched furiously stomping his boots angrily until his boots became muddy. He growled every other minute with his fists clenched tight.

The little girl, Zahra, watched from behind the curtain curiously at the boy who was crazy to be out in the rain raging about. He had nothing but a thin shirt and trousers to keep him warm.

Her eyes went to her mother to see if she too had noticed someone stomping about rather loudly.

Her mother sat with her back to her knitting a pair of socks which she was engrossed in, not even aware that it was raining outside.

Another growl from the boy caused her attention back to the outside rain and thereafter shortly the rain began to slow steadily until it came to a stop completely.

The boy had now sat with his head bowed, against the big tree positioned not too far from her house.

She briefly tested the idea of walking outside to get a better look at the boy but thought better as not to get her white dress dirty.

For some moments everything stilled. The boy had stopped his shouts and the rain had cleared and gone leaving the ground to taste its flavour.

Zahra who watched curiously by the window peaked from the curtains once again seeing the boys body shake. This time she could hear some sounds. The sky will be dark soon and it was clear now without the sound from the rain that the boy was crying. She knew Instantly she had to help so without a seconds thought she slipped on her shoes and left the comfort of her home.

The first thing she noticed as she neared was his hair. It was very curly and it could do with a bit of combing.

Zahra stopped a few feet short and the boy stiffened when he noticed a second presence.

"I'm not crying." He says without raising his head.

Zahra heard a sniffle from his part and shuffled closer. The boy was a terrible liar.

"Why are you crying?" She asked. He sniffed again yet dared to lie once again.

"I'm not crying. I already told you." The boy said this time with a bit of force hoping he will be left alone. His eyes were tear stained and even with the excuse of the rain it was clear that the water in his eyes was indeed tears of sorrow and grief.

Harris who was still but a young child had already built in a habit of not showing signs of weakness, a trait that he inherited from his father. He believed if people saw weakness in him it made him vulnerable. Hence showed he was not strong. And strength was all he had for now, though he thought.

He was different. His build was different, he was bigger than the other kids in school and his looks was unique. His eye colour was unique.

Zahra who tried to get a glimpse of his face shuffled closer and Harris tensed up even more when he noticed.

"The prophet Muhammad peace be upon him said "Truthfulness leads to righteousness, and righteousness leads to Paradise. And a man keeps on telling the truth until he becomes a truthful person. Falsehood leads to Al-Fajoor (i.e. wickedness, evil-doing), and Al-Fajoor (wickedness) leads to the (Hell) Fire, and a man may keep on telling lies till he is written before Allah, a liar."* Zahra narrated as if reading from a text book. She loved to memorise hadiths and it was what she done in her spare time. One of the many reasons her heart was as soft as a pillow.

Harris scowled hearing those words he had heard before. It was the same hadith The Principle Haq had told him during one of his lectures whilst sat on the brown chair.

"I know." Is all he said not wanting to speak any further bringing the topic to an end. He did not want to think about his sins on top of mourning. It was too much to handle for now. His grandmother would not be so pleased with him had she been there with him.

Knowing better as he had been taught by a god-fearing lady, he squeezed his eyes shut and repented silently.

"Are you alone?"

Harris reluctantly spoke not wanting to lie again. "Yes." He mumbled against his arm.

"Where are you mum and dad?"

"I don't have any of those." Harris grit his teeth.

A gasp came from above Harris and then he felt a movement before a hand brushed over his head ever so gently.

Harris's head snapped up at the slight touch and he came face to face with a little girl. She was stroking his head. A smile on her face that displayed two missing teeth.

Zahra who had never met an Orphan before was ecstatic since she knew the rewards of treating an Orphan well. She had just so learnt recently in her class what rewards were given to those who treated Orphans with kindness. This was an opportunity definitely not to miss.

Moreover she had never seen any one with blue eyes before, it was rare and everyone she knew among her people had brown or black eyes.

"What are you doing?" Harris was ready to snap but the girl only smiled, her eyes held a sparkle as it devoured into his own eyes in amazement.

"Ustaada Amina said if we show kindness to Orphans we will get lots of rewards." The girl giggled as she ruffled his hair before Harris stopped her.

That did not stop Zahra from leaving she instead leaned closer fascinated by the eyes.

"You have blue eyes." She examined.

Harris had heard this before from some of the kids at school. They would sometimes give him an alienated look that secluded him from the rest.

"So?" Harris at once snapped defensively. He was sure she was about to say something similar to what he had heard before but what he did not know was that this girl was a unique gem amongst others and within her body not an atoms weight of evil resided within her.

"Their beautiful." She says with a tilt to her head.

Harris bored his eyes in on Zahra but found nothing remotely interesting there. They were just eyes to him. He wondered what she saw in his after all they were just a pair of eyes.

And that was all it took for Harris to forget about his tears that day as he found solace in a new friend. And thus it is the Almighty who takes care of each and everyone. He knows what each heart craves and knows the depths of ones sorrow and hardship. For Harris it was love he craved and good company for the betterment of his soul and Akhira, for had he not met Zahra Ismail he would surely not have met her father Abu Zahra.

His ticket out of his home town lay within the means of Abu Zahra if he was ever to continue on for the journey he was to undertake thereafter and become the man that he will very soon become to be.

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*Sahih Al-Bukhari – Book 73 Hadith 116