"He got away again!" cried the child,
"We'll get him next time," called the woman in the room next door.
I hate rats thought the child. He was 9, and an orphan. Small for his age, but growing rapidly now he was eating properly. In the township it used to be that he was lucky to get one meal a day. At least here he ate three times a day and was able to go to school every day. Before he had to look after his little sisters with his older brother. Now, they were all safely in their new home. Victoria, the mother of the house, looked after them. She fed them, cleaned for them and gave them hugs when they were upset. She was also great at fixing things and when his toys were broken Victoria would patiently sit with him and help him put it right.
"Sipho!" His name brought him back to the now, "Why have you stopped sweeping?"
"Sorry Auntie Victoria, I was thinking."
"Oh. What were you thinking about?"
"How it was before." There was a pause. Victoria looked around the door before looking down and then meeting his eyes.
"Do you miss it?"
"No," said Sipho, "but I miss my mother. She used to hug me and her smile made my tummy go funny. I knew I had been good when she smiled. I miss her so much."
Sipho was determined not to cry. Talking about his mother always made him feel upset, but he did not want Victoria to feel bad. He could see she knew he was upset.
"I am sorry Sipho. I am sorry she is not here, but right now it is time to sweep."
With those words the moment passed, the sadness that sometimes crept upon him was swept away like the dust he brushed into a pile on the floor ready to be put into a dustpan and thrown away. But Sipho knew his sadness could not go away. He knew it would return, like a new layer of dust would cover the wooden floor in a few days and it would be his turn to clear it up again. But for now, he could enjoy a bit of peace as he swept. A bit of peace for a little while.
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| A story based on my experiences with Project Gateway in South Africa |
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