I haven’t updated this blog-thing in a long time – kept letting
things get in the way, really – but I figured I should try to do something now
and then, so here’s the first of (Insha’Allah) a series of ‘childhood
inspirations’: things that happened to me when I was a child, and that have
inspired or influenced me positively in my life. For the most part, they were random acts of
kindness – so they will probably come across as ‘same as, same as’...but they
were important (for me, and maybe they will trigger a memory of something
similar in whoever reads this).
The Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles hardcover annual
I used to go to my local newsagents quite often – once I was
allowed to cross the road by myself and walk the two blocks – in order to buy
sweets and a Superman (or Action, or Adventures of) comic. One day, off I rode on my Street Wolf bicycle to the
store and, after resting it against the window of the shop, I went in to get
some sweets for my sibs and a comic for myself.
I scanned the lower shelves quickly and something red with flashes of green
caught my eye:
I gasped and picked it up and flicked through it and...saw
the price and put it back, reluctantly.
It was too expensive, and it would take me weeks to put the money together
for it from my pocket money. I picked up
the new Superman comic and the sweets
my sibs had asked for and waited in line to pay. Of course, I kept looking back at the shelves
and that bit of red poking out...
...and it was the only copy there...
The shop owners knew me well – that’s the thing with local
stores: somehow a relationship forms without even realising it – and they could
see I wasn’t my usual cheery self (I had a new comic book, I was always cheery
when I had a new comic book), and they asked me what was wrong. So I told them the situation (thankfully there
was no one in line behind me) and they suggested that, if I really wanted it,
then they could put it aside for me and I could pay for it in instalments.
I was thrilled at the suggestion and readily agreed. I had done the maths and figured it would
take eight weeks to pay it off, and they were okay with that.
The following week I made my first instalment of 50p –
seriously, it was a big deal for me back then, okay? As I made to leave the store with the goodies
for my sibs (it was ‘skip week’ so no new Superman books) someone called out to
me. I turned and saw it was one of my
neighbours – our gardens backed on to each other (well, his was across to the
left of ours, but I ‘knew’ who he was).
He asked me about the annual and why I hadn’t taken it with me – he had
seen the shop owner write my instalment payment in pencil on the inside back
cover of the book (no hissing, I wasn’t ‘collecting’ back then).
‘You know what? Eid’s
coming up, so how about I buy it for you as an Eid present?’
I gaped at him, and then frowned. Why would he buy me a present? Sure, I ‘knew’ who he was but I didn’t know
him-know him. Why would he do this? Yup, alarm bells were going off and I began
to back away.
‘Uncle’ (the shop owner (most adults were ‘uncle’ or ‘aunty’
back then)) approached us and asked me if everything was okay, and my neighbour
then explained his proposal. Of course ‘Uncle’
knew him better than I did, but he even asked him if it was ‘proper’ and ‘what
would the boy’s parents say?’
‘It would make the boy happy. There’s no harm in that, right?’
Sure, it would make me happy, but ‘Uncle’ was right: what
would Mum and Dad say? They probably
would have freaked – as much as he was a neighbour he was still pretty much a
stranger...
...but I so wanted the annual...
Yup, you guessed it: I relented and ‘let’ him buy it for
me...
...and I ran home, clutching it, excited, in my hands...
‘Dad! Look! The uncle who lives opposite us bought me
this!’
‘Who?’ Dad was
frowning, and him frowning wasn’t a good thing.
He held out his hand and I handed him the annual. I knew I should have gone with my instinct
back at the shop. ‘Who bought you this?’
‘The uncle who lives opposite us. The one with the green windows,’ I said,
pointing towards the garden.
Dad’s frown deepened, and then he looked at the open front door and said: ‘Where’s your bike.’
I’m telling you honestly: if my heart wasn’t so attached to
me it would have rushed out of my chest, dashed back to my bike, and then
ridden it home and said ‘tada, its’ here!’.
Of course, my heart couldn’t do that.
‘I...left it...’
‘Where?’
‘...outside the newsagents...’
‘Let’s go.’
Dad didn’t run, but he wasn’t walking slowly, either. As I tried to keep pace with him without
running, I explained how ‘the uncle who lives opposite us’ had said it was for
Eid and it was a present.
Then Dad held my hand: ‘and you promise me he didn’t touch
you or anything like that?’
He hadn’t. Other than
talking to me, all he had done was buy the book and hand it to me.
Then, walking towards us, was ‘the uncle who lives opposite
us’. He waved at Dad and I, and Dad held
up the book.
(note, their conversation is an English translation)
‘He can’t accept this from you. I’m sorry.’
‘Brother, please.
There was nothing meant by it.
Your son likes to read. We all
see him sitting by his window reading.’
‘We?’
‘My parents, my wife.
We all do.’
‘This is too much. I’m
sorry. He can’t accept this.’
‘Just treat it as an Eid present.’
For a few minutes they had this back and forth but,
eventually, Dad relented and ‘the uncle who lives opposite us’ promised that if
he ever wanted to buy me or my sibs anything then he would ask Dad first.
Hmm...this post has not turned out the way I expected it
to. It was supposed to be a small
comment on how ‘the uncle who lives opposite us’ was one of the people to show
me that a random act of kindness (like buying a kid a book) was awesome, but
that sometimes you need permission from a parent first, otherwise it could be
construed as weird or inappropriate...
Oh, and the bike was still there, in case you were
wondering.
Dad asked Mum to make a sweet dish and then he went round to
‘the uncle who lived (they’ve since moved) opposite us’s house to give it as a
thank you.
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