The Orphan Child

Chapter 7

Harris's Grand mother put aside her copy of the Quran and began to make food for three a little later than usual. A message had reached her that Harris had got himself into trouble again and was to receive detention after school that day.

Although she never encouraged the child's bad behaviour she didn't condemn it as the others would sometimes do so. She was a patient lady and believed children should be taught through love and compassion, not just punishment. She feared the journey that Harris would undergo with his Uncle. His Uncle would certainly be displeased and harsh in the very least.

Uncle Yousef was not a man to get on the wrong side of. He had a temper that no one beside his own family members had once or twice witnessed. Especially Harris.

Leaving aside the walking stick in the kitchens corner she used the counters as support to get to the different ingredients. She intended to make an oatmeal porridge for when Harris would arrive hungry. She could almost imagine the twisted face he would make when he sees the oatmeal porridge which put a smile to her face. It wasn't his favourite but he needed to eat a variety of different food in order to be a healthy big boy.

She once again smiled imaging that face Harris would make and headed towards the small room they called kitchen where they stored food and pots and pans.

She opened the top cupboard and looked up, the box of oats was too high for her reach. Usually she would ask Harris to climb up or if her son was around she would ask him.

There was no one around and only a little time left before Harris would arrive. He must have had a bad day today. Surely something or someone must have made him angry today, hence his out of order behaviour leading to detention. Usually he is careful with his actions.

With a bit of help from a wooden stool and asking her creator for some strength she managed to bring the box down. Alhamdulillah! without breaking or straining any of her limbs that she feared.

She managed to get the milk boiling when footsteps and other sounds were heard coming into her home.

She grabbed her walking stick and turned the heat to a minimum just as loud angry shouts and insults were starting to be thrown in the front room.

Immediately a sense of relief flushed through her whole body just as every day when she would see her grandson after school. Times away from Harris were hard upon her just as it was upon Harris. They each missed the other dearly.

"Assalamu Alaykum Harris, Yousef." Harris's grandmother announces her presence so her son would calm down a little but it did no such thing. Yousef was furious. Raging.

"Wa Alaykum Assalam." Harris looked up with saddened eyes as he sat with his head bowed. He hated being in trouble and especially with Uncle Yousef. Uncle Yousef scared him because his eyes would turn red and sometime he prodded him in the chest which hurt a lot.

"What happened dear?" Harris's grandmother sat besides him and held his hand. His good hand thankfully. The other hand was tucked away neatly in his pocket still recovering from the redness. He dared not show his shaking hands to his grandmother for the fear of tears rolling down her precious face. He hated to see her cry which is one of the many reasons why he tried so much to stay a good kid.

"I'm sorry grandma. I didn't mean to get in trouble. It wasn't me." Harris pleaded fearing his grandmother was unhappy with him. He couldn't bear the thought of his grandmother being upset with him. Although she wasn't a lady to show anger no matter what people may do to her she had a very successful method of her own. She would simply stay quiet when something upset her which was enough to make the other realise their mistake and feel bad about it.