asleep in bed.”
Hamid looked at her hard. She did not seem to be annoyed at Kinza still being with her.
“I took her all around the town with me today,” went on the nurse, “but nobody has ever seen her before, or knows who her parents are. She is a little blind girl, so I suppose no one wants her.”
“And what will you do with her?” asked the boys all together.
“Well, I shall have to keep her for the moment; there’s nothing else to be done.” This time she laughed outright, and Hamid nearly laughed, too, with joy and relief. He had a wild, reckless longing to see his little sister asleep in bed, and he was nolonger afraid. He waited until the little boys had bowed and shaken hands with their hostess and skipped off into the dark. Then she turned and found him lingering in the passage. His heart was beating violently, but he spoke steadily and boldly.
“I come from a village,” he said, “and in my village there are two or three blind baby girls whose parents come into the market. Let me see her, and perhaps I can tell you who her mother is.”
The nurse looked down at him, surprised. She had certainly never seen this little boy before, and he might be speaking the truth. She had watched him since he had entered her house and noticed his thin, tired face and his bruised feet—also the ravenous way he had fallen on his food. She guessed he had traveled a long way and was glad to shelter him, so she led him to a room upstairs, where Kinza lay on a mattress, fast asleep.
She looked different because she had had a bath and had come out quite another color. Also her hair had been washed and cut, and instead of her tangles she had soft, dark curls falling over her forehead. Her old dress had been changed for a little white nightdress, spotlessly clean. Hamid gazed at her, fascinated, for a while, and then looked around the room. It was brightly lit and furnished simply, but there were pretty covers on the mattresses, books on the shelves, and pictures on the walls. He longed to stay with her but knew it was not possible.
“I do not know her,” he said gravely. “She is not one of the children from our village.”
He followed the nurse downstairs in silence, andshe came to the door and let him out. He stepped into the street, looked up into her face, and took hold of the hand that had been so kind to Kinza.
“You are good,” he said simply. “Your food is good; your teaching is good; your heart is good. May God have mercy on your ancestors!”
Then he bounded away down the street and disappeared into the darkness.
Hamid Learns a Lesson for Life
H amid kept his job at the doughnut shop. He worked hard, and his master was usually quite kind to him, giving him his breakfast and his coin regularly. The coin he spent on lunch, and the nurse provided him with his supper. He slept with Ayashi just inside the mosque, and as long as the sun shone and the weather kept warm, he was happy. There was always plenty to do. The boys helped with the harvesting and picked olives. On hot days they went bathing in the rocky stream that flowed from the spring in the mountain and washed all their dirt away.
Five days a week, they went to the house of the English nurse. Hamid knew many stories about Jesus now. He knew that He was not a saint at all, but the Son of God who had come down into this world. Heknew that the lame and the blind had come to Jesus, and He had healed them. Hamid wished that he also had lived then, for he would have carried Kinza to Him, and her eyes would have been opened. He knew that Jesus had died with His arms stretched out in welcome on a cross, and He had been placed in a rock tomb. He had come to life again and left the tomb. Then He had been seen in a beautiful garden.
He knew, too, that Jesus had gone back to heaven, the City of Light, and was still alive, and that the living Spirit of Jesus was willing to come into the hearts of people to make them good.
Summer turned into autumn,
Hamid looked at her hard. She did not seem to be annoyed at Kinza still being with her.
“I took her all around the town with me today,” went on the nurse, “but nobody has ever seen her before, or knows who her parents are. She is a little blind girl, so I suppose no one wants her.”
“And what will you do with her?” asked the boys all together.
“Well, I shall have to keep her for the moment; there’s nothing else to be done.” This time she laughed outright, and Hamid nearly laughed, too, with joy and relief. He had a wild, reckless longing to see his little sister asleep in bed, and he was nolonger afraid. He waited until the little boys had bowed and shaken hands with their hostess and skipped off into the dark. Then she turned and found him lingering in the passage. His heart was beating violently, but he spoke steadily and boldly.
“I come from a village,” he said, “and in my village there are two or three blind baby girls whose parents come into the market. Let me see her, and perhaps I can tell you who her mother is.”
The nurse looked down at him, surprised. She had certainly never seen this little boy before, and he might be speaking the truth. She had watched him since he had entered her house and noticed his thin, tired face and his bruised feet—also the ravenous way he had fallen on his food. She guessed he had traveled a long way and was glad to shelter him, so she led him to a room upstairs, where Kinza lay on a mattress, fast asleep.
She looked different because she had had a bath and had come out quite another color. Also her hair had been washed and cut, and instead of her tangles she had soft, dark curls falling over her forehead. Her old dress had been changed for a little white nightdress, spotlessly clean. Hamid gazed at her, fascinated, for a while, and then looked around the room. It was brightly lit and furnished simply, but there were pretty covers on the mattresses, books on the shelves, and pictures on the walls. He longed to stay with her but knew it was not possible.
“I do not know her,” he said gravely. “She is not one of the children from our village.”
He followed the nurse downstairs in silence, andshe came to the door and let him out. He stepped into the street, looked up into her face, and took hold of the hand that had been so kind to Kinza.
“You are good,” he said simply. “Your food is good; your teaching is good; your heart is good. May God have mercy on your ancestors!”
Then he bounded away down the street and disappeared into the darkness.
Hamid Learns a Lesson for Life
H amid kept his job at the doughnut shop. He worked hard, and his master was usually quite kind to him, giving him his breakfast and his coin regularly. The coin he spent on lunch, and the nurse provided him with his supper. He slept with Ayashi just inside the mosque, and as long as the sun shone and the weather kept warm, he was happy. There was always plenty to do. The boys helped with the harvesting and picked olives. On hot days they went bathing in the rocky stream that flowed from the spring in the mountain and washed all their dirt away.
Five days a week, they went to the house of the English nurse. Hamid knew many stories about Jesus now. He knew that He was not a saint at all, but the Son of God who had come down into this world. Heknew that the lame and the blind had come to Jesus, and He had healed them. Hamid wished that he also had lived then, for he would have carried Kinza to Him, and her eyes would have been opened. He knew that Jesus had died with His arms stretched out in welcome on a cross, and He had been placed in a rock tomb. He had come to life again and left the tomb. Then He had been seen in a beautiful garden.
He knew, too, that Jesus had gone back to heaven, the City of Light, and was still alive, and that the living Spirit of Jesus was willing to come into the hearts of people to make them good.
Summer turned into autumn,
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