Providence

She stepped on to the pavement happy the day was over and she could rush back home to be with her children. But what was this? The sky was overcast with rain clouds. Ah! It is going to rain tonight she thought. The very thought of the rain sent a chill down her spine. What would she do? The corner tiles were broken. Water would seep in. The children would be drenched. What if they fell sick? How would she tend to them? She had already exhausted her leave. The month was nearing close. She just had sufficient to feed the ten mouths till the last day of the month. Illness meant she would have to cut down on food. “God what do I do?” she thought. Deep in thought, she did not realize that she was literally running until something suddenly applied the brakes.

“What is that?” she thought aloud. She strained her ears. Yes, it was a whine. It looked as though someone was in pain. The rain and broken tiles forgotten, she started searching for the object of her interest. There it was a bundle of fur by the heap of leaves on the road side. She knelt by it and took it in her arms. Oh! That was a bad cut on the leg. Poor thing it was in pain. Tears welled up in her eyes. The pain was communicated. The little one stopped whining. It looked into her eyes. A bond was established – the bond of love and trust. Slowly getting up she wrapped it in her shawl an old and fading one yet, radiant because of the warmth it spread.

She took it home. Cleaned and dressed the wound. It was so weak. It needed proper feeding. But she had just sufficient for herself and the ten children. She gave it her portion of the meal and sat back enjoying the sight of it digging its teeth into her bread. She felt no hunger. The sight itself was food for her. Meal over, she found a worn out rug for it to sleep and dozed off by its’ side. The rain lashed mercilessly on the small and dilapidated hut. She was deep in sleep.

The song of the morning birds woke her up. Rubbing her eyes she stepped out and took a deep yawn. But, the yawn broke mid-way and she was left gapping at the dirty courtyard strewn with leaves and twigs, testimony to the havoc of the night. She rushed to the kennel at the back of the house, fearing the worst. The children must be drenched and shivering. Guilt overcame her. How could she have slept so comfortably when they were there wet and shivering?

There she found them all ten, happy and barking, dry and fit. One thing she did not know was that they were being watched. That night when the rain lashed, God showered his love and affection on her. He let her sleep peacefully through the night taking care of her ten little children. When the rains did lash, he sent down a palm leaf from the palm by the kennel straight on the broken tiles, protecting the little ones from a wet night.

A prayer of thanks escaped her lips. Kneeling besides the kennel she took them one by one and caressed them, then ran back home and brought the new one. Now she had eleven mouths to feed and care. Yet, she was not worried. She knew she would manage.

Image courtesy of photostock at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. This weekend we had to weave a post including the following-‘One thing he/she/they didn’t know that they were being watched.’

Inviting you to also visit my blog at blogspot : http://geetasfile.blogspot.com

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