Daniel’s Art Of Giving..
I bet whenever the word, “ART” is mentioned, you instantly think of Picasso, Leonardo Da Vinci and the likes. Today, I am going to introduce to you an outstanding piece, titled, “The Art Of Giving” from an exceptional writer, “Daniel.”
If you haven’t really been consistent, see my last post. I find “The Art of Giving” by “Daniel” so intriguing, from the very start it has an unique aura of inquisitiveness. Assuredly, this is one you won’t be eager to forget. I refuse to delay your senses any longer.
I give you,
The Art of Giving
“Whatever you give always comes back to you”, they say. Or so it seems. It might not come back in the way you want though.
Here we were, me a six year old boisterous boy peeking through the glass windows of our car. I was and still will be filled with joy anytime we go out in the car. My older siblings always played our favorite game which we called ‘Guess what’s next”
It basically entailed trying to guess the next big building as the car zoomed past them. You could imagine the fun in that.
Back to the present though, we were heading to our uncle’s place. It was Christmas eve and we were going to spread the cheer and fun around.
Moreover, we were also going help our aunt who recently delivered herself of a baby (her first child).
Excitement and wonderment seeped through my bones and we were looking forward to having the best time of our lives.
Seeing as we were getting tired and was stuck in traffic, my dad took the opportunity to get some snacks for all of us. I opted for a cone of ice cream as a vendor was passing by.
As I stretched my hands out to collect the cone, a haggard looking boy and his guardian caught my attention. The boy was looking forlorn and dejected and my heart felt stirrings of pity.
I imagined myself in the boy’s shoes, having nothing in this festive occasion and my eyes began to tear up
At that point, I couldn’t hold myself much longer and I motioned to them to get their attention. Stretching my hands out, I handed over the cone to him.
The boy’s solemn expression lightened as his eyes shone with gratitude and appreciation of my gift to him. He muttered a quick “thank you” and his guardian showered us with prayers for the kind act.
The tears fell from my eyes and I immediately dropped the bowl of onions
I trust your heartbeat was and is in sync with the imaginations of Dilli’s The Radio. Don’t be eager to leave, read the piece once more and explore a new imagination.
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