The Wolf and the Lamb – My earliest surviving birthday gift

Memories of the past are always nostalgic and one’s cherished treasure. Yesterday, while going through my old books and souvenirs, I found something that was presented to me on my birthday many many years ago when I was perhaps seven or eight.

In those days, Chinese printed books for children had recently arrived in the market and on my birthday, my mother bought this beautiful and coloured storybook, “Wolf and the lamb.” I do not remember how many times I read it over the years that followed. And I loved this so much that I always made it a point to preserve it while cleansing my junk, which would always swell in days. I had a black wooden box where I kept all my belongings. And whenever we had a fight among the siblings, my other brothers always threatened me to loot my treasure box. And per force I had to give in to their demands to preserve my possessions. And it took me quite hard to preserve at least this gift – the only surviving treasure from my black box.

And when yesterday I saw it, tears rolled in as the one who gifted it is no more with us now. Mothers are always special – their memories bring tears whenever one sees something that is attributed to them when they are no more. I read it again yesterday and said a thank you to my mother and I am sure she must have heard me saying so sitting far above in her heavenly abode.

Today, on 14th of August, while the Pakistan celebrates its independence day, I also join my family to pray for my mother, who left on this very day in 1997. May she be blessed. Ameen.