"An alms."
His filthy, ragged clothes cover part of his body.
"An alms, for God's sake."
Two tears stream down along his childish face.
"Please, my mother is dying."
Someone comes up and drops a coin in his trembling, fragile hand. She caresses the child's face and asks,
"What's wrong with your mother?"
"She's dying, and we have nothing in our house to feed her, or pay for a doctor's visit."
There is barely a muffled moan and the child breaks into tears slowly. The quiet crying makes him shake his little body with slight convulsions.
The warm female hand caresses his and the soft voice asks him to calm down and gives him encouragement.
"Let's go to your house. I am a doctor. What is your name?"
"Rajiv."
The boy leads the woman to his house. The room without light prevents the doctor from seeing the patient clearly, but gradually the doctor can see the contracted face of the mother because of pain. After listening to her, she gives a medicine to her, and after a while the patient is better. She takes out from purse a few bills and leaves them on the table, ordering Rajiv to buy something to feed. When the woman says goodbye to Rajiv, she gives him the medal that has always accompanied her.
Thanks to her, Rajiv's mother began to improve, and she healed definitively.
It has been more than thirty years and Rajiv drives his car down the street from a city, far from his home village, in another country.
There are many people swirling around someone lying on the ground. Rajiv stops the car and approaches the place. An older woman has suffered an attack and is unconscious. He, as a doctor, provides first aid and gets her to revive.
He is leaning over her. She looks at him gratefully and sees herself medal hanging from his neck. Surprised she says:
"It's the medal I gave to a child when I was in India."
"Can not be. Are you Rajiv?"
Rajiv, can barely contain the excitement. And she says:
"Thank you, Rajiv. Life is generous, it always gives you back what you give it."
His filthy, ragged clothes cover part of his body.
"An alms, for God's sake."
Two tears stream down along his childish face.
"Please, my mother is dying."
Someone comes up and drops a coin in his trembling, fragile hand. She caresses the child's face and asks,
"What's wrong with your mother?"
"She's dying, and we have nothing in our house to feed her, or pay for a doctor's visit."
There is barely a muffled moan and the child breaks into tears slowly. The quiet crying makes him shake his little body with slight convulsions.
The warm female hand caresses his and the soft voice asks him to calm down and gives him encouragement.
"Let's go to your house. I am a doctor. What is your name?"
"Rajiv."
The boy leads the woman to his house. The room without light prevents the doctor from seeing the patient clearly, but gradually the doctor can see the contracted face of the mother because of pain. After listening to her, she gives a medicine to her, and after a while the patient is better. She takes out from purse a few bills and leaves them on the table, ordering Rajiv to buy something to feed. When the woman says goodbye to Rajiv, she gives him the medal that has always accompanied her.
Thanks to her, Rajiv's mother began to improve, and she healed definitively.
It has been more than thirty years and Rajiv drives his car down the street from a city, far from his home village, in another country.
There are many people swirling around someone lying on the ground. Rajiv stops the car and approaches the place. An older woman has suffered an attack and is unconscious. He, as a doctor, provides first aid and gets her to revive.
He is leaning over her. She looks at him gratefully and sees herself medal hanging from his neck. Surprised she says:
"It's the medal I gave to a child when I was in India."
"Can not be. Are you Rajiv?"
Rajiv, can barely contain the excitement. And she says:
"Thank you, Rajiv. Life is generous, it always gives you back what you give it."
