Khyati Vyas, Class X A
The other day, I had gone for an evening walk. On the way, I noticed an old woman reading a letter. Her hands were trembling and there were tears in her eyes. I went to her as I felt terribly sorry for her. On asking her the reason, she sniffed, “I am desperate to read the letter that my son has sent me. Alas! The curse of illiteracy holds me back. He is in the army and each moment that he is away seems like a year. I just hope this letter does not bring any bad news.” I was taken aback and offered to read the letter for her. With shaking hands, she blessed me and handed me the letter.
I started reading the letter, understanding the value of emotions and love. Her son, it seemed was a brave commander who was getting felicitated for his commendable efforts during relief work in an earthquake stricken Nepal. He wanted his mother to witness the ceremony in Delhi where he would be honoured by the President. A tear trickled down her cheek. The shine in her eyes conveyed that they were tears of happiness.
She hugged me tightly, filling me with a warmth, the warmth of doing a good turn. I took her back to her house while she narrated anecdotes of courage of her young son.
Many days passed and I often thought about her and one sunny morning, I got a wonderful surprise. I received a letter from that lady. She invited me to her house in Kashmir, where she was now living with her son. No wonder, a letter had bound us in an unadulterated relationship of love!
