An envelope,
Who knew something so small could carry so much pain and suffering?
She lived far away, but not far enough to not touch my heart,
Hesitation,
I don't want to open the letter for fear of guilt,
She suffers so much and yet I take my life for granted,
The sound of ripping paper,
The envelope was open, the letter in my hand,
Do I dare read her suffering?
Her letter translated spared me from details,
She lived in Bangladesh, Asia,
So grown up for seven,
My voice seems to echo in the silience as I read the letter aloud,
" Dear correspondent,",
My eyes are already tearing up,
So much love in two little words,
"My father is ill, he lays in bed paralyzed,
Mother is sad always and brother hits me more now,
your letters give me strength and hope, I am blessed to know you,"
Tears flow from my eyes now,
How can such devestation happen to a sweet girl like Bonna?
I read on unable to stop,
" It is a long walk to school, sometimes I can't because it rains and I can't see the path. I work hard in the garden, I also do dishes and sweep the home. What duties do you have?"
I try to think of a seven year old girl walking two miles to school,
Unable to picture it I set the letter down on my desk and lay my head in my hands and quietly cry.
I put the unfinished letter in a pile of letters I had past received from Bonna,
" I hope to meet you someday," one says,
Another mentions, " Our hut is made with mud walls and a tin roof, it is small but it is bigger than Razzy's hut so I am gratefull",
Another tear falls from the bridge of my nose,
I decide to take action,
I grab my laptop and write down a poem, one that talks about the silience Bonna goes through on her walk to market, her feet sometimes bledding from lack of shoes,
Pain,
Suffering,
So much in a letter from a child.
- This poem is based off a real little girl in Bangladesh, this really did happen, your prayers for Bonna Das are greatly apreciated, Thank You.
