soy bean cake

Tronoh is kind of hot as usual, i do sweat profusely when i am here,what more with the fact that i don't go out much. I just enjoy the laid back life i lead here, instead of the immaculate image that i keep on going way back there. Today was no different than any other, I am taking care of Daddy as he just recovered from an operation on monday. The Doctor told him, no driving, no farming and no hardwork. Dad, being dad disregarded most of the doctor's orders. He unwittingly ate his antibiotics 2 at a time even though the prescription specifically saidmakan satu dua kali sehari. i even had to tell him of yesterday as i saw him picking up a pot in the garden in broad daylight.

And today, was worst of all. He was told not to drive for at least a month, so i was dispatched as the family driver this holiday. I did not mind at all, and told dad he could tell me to get ready and i would drive him straight away where he wanted to go. At 3 pm, mom went of to work, so i was left alone with dad. 3.15 pm, i asked 'daddy, just call me when you are ready to go to the bank'. 3.30pm, i saw him change into his favourite brown pants from his previous kain pelikat and asked whether or not he wanted to go out already. He said he wanted to wait until later. At 4pm, i fell asleep, and dad sneakily took out the 4-wheel drive and turbo-ed down to town triumphant that he could drive around once more without my knowledge! I woke up to find the house empty, the car not in the drive way and called Dad straight away. He picked up the phone with the most guilty voice ever, and winced that he would be back in just a few minutes. Well, at least he got his few minutes of freedom. (ps:my dad is very degil, so is his daughter)

When my dad came back from his euphoric trip, at the same time, my sister arrived from johor,and my mother came back from work. We were laughing about daddy sneaking out from the house when suddenly, we heard a soft distinct Assalamualaikum, asaalamualaikum...Mom got up to peek through the glass-panel door and saw a small timid boy amidst the cars on the lawn. She beckoned him to come through the gates and asked what he wanted. The dark tanned boy, wearing an oversized songkok looked up at my mother with tired eyes, his voice low, parched from the hot sun. saya jual cd agama, ni untuk sumbangan ikhlas, rm10 satu.

Mom looked at the boy's soiled clothes, his filthy nails and worn out face. "Adik ni dari mana", asked my mother. "Dari Sekolah agama Seremban", he ansered "seremban!?", asked my mother in surprise, "Macam mana boleh jauh sampai sini, mak ayah mana, tahu tak adik kat mana ni, siapa yang hantar adik sini", my mother voiced out a train of questions. The boy looked unwilling to answer my mother, he faltered in his answers. "Ada Ustad hantar saya ke sini, kami ada 8 orang kena jual cd ni, nanti dah habis jumpa dekat Shell " (theres a shell petrol station near my place). It was so sad...can't you all see, this is child labour, and in what, in the name of God! This is wrong!

"Adik lapar x, nak minum x?", asked a corncerned mom. The little boy answered no, but mom directed me to get something for him to drink from the fridge. The orange juice was very sour, even i did not like it, so i decided to give him cold soy bean drink instead. As i handed him the glass, the little boy, with a glass of drink in his hands and a handful of cds in the other, stopped for a moment to think of how to drink. (they teach in religious schools to drink while sitting). In the end, he squated on the orange tiled floor, drinking deeply, his small fragile body quivering with every single drop of the creamy fluid. I held back tears. Mom told me to take out the rattan chair in the hall, and gave it to the boy so that he could drink in comfort, without needing to squat. The small boy smiled gratefully. I really cant describe with words the emotions i felt at that time, I seriously cant. I wish i could show you...

The boy left after mom gave him the rm10 he needed to sell a cd.
The boy's image never left my heart.

I saw him go...
I saw him walk away...

What should i do? What can we do? People everywhere are using these children, whether they realise it or not. Some go from table to table at a restaurant, asking for money, for a so-called charitable organization. Some, like that boy just now go around asking people to buy religious products.
Is this right Muslims?
Aren't you ashamed of using children to do this for you?
These children are supposed to be at school, at home, watching tv, reading books, and not going around asking for compassion from strangers.
What if they were kidnapped, human trafficked half way across the globe? No one would notice, and they would always remain anonymous, just another statistic.

I wish i could do something more.

While my mother gave this boy a simple gesture of this soybean drink, i remembered something. Everytime when i watch a movie with really bad subtitles in Indonesia, I notice that they translate love as soy bean cake. Lots of movies, not only one on their pirated vcds. This child may not have his mothers love, may not have the love he needs from the people responsible towards him, but at least today, he received some love from a complete stranger, my mother..she gave him a piece of soy bean cake today.

One day, i want to give my soybean cake to the children who need it. Spread the love~