Updated: Jan 30
It was my childhood. I was in my 2nd or 3rd standard, couldn’t recall exactly. We were at School, in a function at the assembly area. I, and my friend, sneaked out of the function and had come near the classrooms to roam around. We always hated the school functions. We went inside a classroom and ferreted around aimlessly. We ended up opening a lunch box and found biscuits inside it. We ate them all. Then we went back outside and started chit chatting. A brief amount of time passed by, and suddenly I heard a loud cry near the classroom. It was a boy who was crying dolefully. I inquired him about what had happened, and he said, “Someone ate all my biscuits”. I felt miserable. I was deeply hurt, feeling like I had committed a crime or sin. I was very sad. But there he was, in front of me, crying and holding up his empty box. I didn’t know what to say to him. I consoled him, took him for a walk, played with him, and ran along the school chasing that boy who ran blissfully. I am not sure whether he was delighted in having me as a company to play with or that he moved on from his stolen biscuits, the boy was feeling joyful after some time. And I was glad that I could make him happy.
This incident was vital to me. Growing up as a child I could have taken the wrong path and spoiled myself if I had not met the boy. Who knows, I could have developed a propensity to commit such acts. But God sent to me that boy to realize what I had done, and what it could do to others. It was a didactic lesson learnt as a kid.