“Buy books for your children — poems, literature, alphabet.” The boy was hollering out in a crowded local morning train. “Buy for yourself or your children. Books will make your childrens’ future better.”
The boy was in a hurry to sell the books, because the next station was just in ten minutes. Some passengers threw pity looks, some disgusted looks, some disparaging looks, and quite a few gave malign looks at the boy. Some righteous passengers even flipped the pages of the books pretending to buy, only to return after a few minutes of reading.
The boy had to get down at the next station. He was getting late.
“Talking about our childrens’ future, HUH!” One passenger in his mid fifties passed a snarky remark to another passenger. “The boy has no idea about his own future.”
The boy still walked to the furious man and cajoled him to buy a book.
“Get off me, right now.” He yelled. “I don’t have children to make their future better.”
The boy hung his head down.
“And I bet you yourself couldn’t even read a single line of these books.” The man’s desolating affliction crushed the boy’s heart. “Go ahead, read! I promise I’ll buy all your books if you could read even one word.”
The boy opened a book and read a poem:
I said something,
My childhood is not yet gone,
But forced adulthood is almost here…
I want back my childlike cheer,
Isn’t that clear.
Emotions stirred in the man’s heart.
The dejected boy put all his books back in his bag. He didn’t want to sell books to the man. At the next station the boy got down and ran to his school. He was getting late. He was just a nine-year-old child. He bounced back to the innocence of childhood. Let bygones be bygones. No one could get his spirit down. He moved on.
Four Days Later
The same man from the train knocked at the door.
The boy opened the door, rubbing his eyes, still trying to wake himself up.
The boy stood there, staring at the man. No words were exchanged, but emotions overflowed.
“Would you like to come with me?” The man pleaded, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry for my actions on the train that day.”
The boy didn’t answer, but his heart melted. They hugged each other.
“I’m not a mother, but I have realized that motherhood is a feeling.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “You have elevated the motherly feeling inside me.”
The man never planned, or wanted a child, but it happened anyway.
“I cried for three days when I decided to adopt you.”
The boy held the man’s hand and walked alongside him. A happy yearning smile adorned their faces.
Motherhood can be a logical decision and still be a beautiful, unique experience, where the “maternal drive” can be a journey rather than a destination.
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