The Magic Stone

In the village of Dama there was a little girl named Mudit; a bubbly and cheerful girl. She loved to read and thus helped her to be a good story teller for the other children in the village. They gathered under the old Angsa tree in the late afternoon which had its branches spreading wide giving shade and warmth to the children while listening to Mudit telling stories. Sometimes they acted on the stories being told to the older folks in the village. It was always a joy to the old folks to see the children’s giggle, laughter and acts as they amused them.

One fateful night when all was quiet and calm in Dama village, the sound of thunder and flashes of lightning continuously woke the villagers. It looked as though the gates in heaven were opened as rain came in sheets onto this village. The next moment the water level in the village continued to rise …up and up…to the door, the windows and the roof.

In Mudit’s home, the water level was rising from the ground. Mudit had a cat, Cittas and she put it in a cloth bag, strapped it closed to her body. First papa helped mama to climb out from the window and secured her position on the thatched roof. Papa came back for Mudit and slowly helped her to secure her position on the roof with mama holding to her cold wet hand. By sitting on the roof, the hope of being rescue was higher as it was impossible to be inside the house which was almost submerged in water.

When mama was trying to secure her position on the roof with Mudit, she slipped! Mudit shouted “mama…mama…ma…” Papa immediately jumped into the water trying to hold mama’s hand. Mudit shouted “papa…papa…pa…” Papa replied: ‘Mudit hold tight, help will come, don’t let go.”

Gripping hard on the roof just as her father had instructed, she kept on crying out loud, “Papa…papa …mama…mama don’t leave me here. PAPA..MAMA don’t leave me here...” as she watched helplessly, her papa and mama being carried away by the strong current of water. Her cries from frantic loud voices gradually reduced to a whimper as exhaustion and cold overcame her. The rain continued to beat on her lean and exhausted body mercilessly…

Mudit found herself in a strange place when she opened her eyes. This is not her room and all of a sudden she remembered the rain and the flood. Fear gripped her, where is papa and mama? The sound from the outside of her room distracted her thoughts. Maybe Papa and Mama cooking outside, she thought… Her spirit lifted and she ran to the door as she couldn’t wait to meet papa and mama.

When she saw the back of the lady washing dishes by the sink, she rushed towards her and hugged her leg in a tight embrace. “Mama…Mama… I am so glad you are safe. I am so scared that I will not see you again.” She lifted her head to look at the lady as she sensed the lady was turning towards her. When their eyes met, shock went through Mudit’s body. She blurred out, “You are not my Mama, Where is my mama? Where is my mama?

The lady with the gentle eyes held her closely and looked into her face and said, “I am Auntie Mina and you must be Mudit. Mudit did not answer and gazed aimlessly, lost in the far distance. In her heart Mudit was longing for mama and papa. For the next few days, Mudit was housed together with 7 children whose parents were yet to be found. Mudit kept close to herself and hardly talked to the other children in the village though they knew one another.

Everyday Mudit cried upon waking up. The only time she did not cry was when she fell asleep. Infact she cried herself to sleep. She blamed herself for not jumping into the water to save mama and papa.” She started to cry again, big tear drops swelled out from the eyes. She dropped to the ground and cried her heart out as fear sunk in that she will not see mama and papa again.

The water level had subsided and Mudit walked to the old Angsana tree where all the children used to gather for story time in the past. There were fewer children now and even as they gathered there, they looked at one another aimlessly…their laughter, giggles and smiles were no longer visible. What had left behind around the old Angsa tree were empty bottles, tins, pots, plates, clothes washed out from the villagers’ homes.

Every time when Aunty Mina coaxed her to eat, she said; “I will wait for mama and papa. I want to eat with them.” Aunty Mina was very concerned over Mudit’s health. She said, “Mudit you have to eat a little...What will your Mama and Papa say when they see you loss so much weight….Everyone in the village is out helping to search for your papa and mama. Papa wants you to be strong so that you can help mama in the house. There is so much work to do… clean the house, the clothes, the furniture, the pots, the plates…” Mudit looked up into Aunty Mina’s eyes. She searched her face carefully and said, “Is papa and mama coming back? Are they not dead?”

Aunty Mina held back her tears and said, “Mudit, your papa and mama are still missing. So long as no one found their bodies. There is always a hope that they are still alive. You obeyed your papa’s instruction to stay on the roof and waited for the rescue. If he was here, papa would say – Mudit stay strong.”

Mudit eyes lighted up, said: “Yes, I know papa would said that because he is my papa and also my strong hero. I want to be strong like papa and mama. But… What happened if they are hurt?”

I am sure your papa is such a strongman he will be able to look after himself and your mama. Eat dear, stay strong while we wait for your papa and mama’s news,” said Aunty Mina

One week had passed, still no news on papa and mama. Mudit’s hope of seeing papa and mama was getting dimmer. She started to cry quietly on her own at night as she overheard some of the villagers were giving up the search. “Papa, mama where are you? Give me sign so that I can tell the villagers where to look for you. Please papa, tell me where to find you” she prayed in desperation. Tears slowly rolled down her cheeks shamelessly.

The next morning, as she was going through the routine of washing the clothes, her mind was far away wondering what had happened to her papa and mama. Suddenly, the quick running steps broke her out of her trance. She looked up and saw Aunty Mina running towards her. Aunty Mina must have some news regarding mama and papa, she thought. Without a moment of hesitation, she pushed away the bucket of wet clothes and ran towards Aunty Mina’s direction.

“Aunty Mina, you have news about papa and mama?” cried Mudit.

“err… yes Mudit… ” said Aunty Mina in a choking voice.

“MAMA and PAPA… ” said Mudit, as she couldn’t contain herself anymore.

“The villagers found your papa and mama, both were badly injured. I am sorry to tell you that they passed away on the way to the hospital. Before your papa died, he told me to give this black stone to you as it is very important to him and you. I am so sorry Mudit” said Aunty Mina not able to hold back the tears as she placed the stone into Mudit’s hand.

Mudit took the stone and began to gently rub it against her cheek. Tears were rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably. She fell to her knees and wailed shamelessly at the same time rubbing the stone against her cheek. After a while, she got on to her feet and said, “Aunty Mina, can you please takes me to the hospital. I want to see my papa and mama…”

The following week Mudit moved into a children’s home since both her parents had passed away. She always had the ‘black stone’ in her pocket and would take it out, cupped it in her palm and put it against her cheek. She felt the coldness yet smoothness of the stone, tears rolled down from her eyes and onto the ‘special stone’. She felt the dampness of her tears on the stone. She whispered: “mama… papa…I missed you both, what am I going to do being alone?”

A voice seemed to be emerging from the special-stone which was still cupped on her palm against her check. “Be strong my child…be strong my child…” For a moment, Mudit gazed at the stone, wiped the tears and put the stone into her pocket. It somehow gave her a little strength day by day…

By nightfall, when all the other children were asleep Mudit lay quietly by herself holding the stone in her palm looking out to the sky. Mudit rubbed the stone slowly and she felt her body was numbed as some force seemed to take over. The next moment she realized she was a big strong and kind Cheetah, protecting all the other children who have lost their parents in the freak floods. Cheetah had a kind heart of not harming the other children. When Cheetah rubbed the stone she was turned back into Mudit. The cheetah wisdom stayed with her always.

When Mudit woke up the next morning, she remembered the story of the ‘magic stone’ from Papa. The Magic stone was grasped on her palm. Mudit placed it close to her cheek again, closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the stone and smiled...

As the days went by, slowly the children gathered their strength, supporting and cheering one another. A kind lady brought some story books over to the children’s home and soon Mudit started reading and a bit of storytelling to the children. Her favourite story was the ‘Magic stone and the little girl’… and Mudit will act the ‘cheetah.’

“What was the secret of the black stone? Looks like it has some magic power on Mudit” When Mudit was little, she used to have frequent bad dreams. It used to scare her and she hated bedtime. When papa came to know about it, papa showed her his magic stone that made him strong and brave. He rubbed the stone against her cheek because the stone will turned into a cheetah to protect his little princess from the dream’s monsters. Since then, every night without fail papa will rub the stone against her cheek before she went to bed. Now she was not afraid of the bad dreams monsters anymore. But she continued to rub the stone before going to bed because the stone now helped her to sense the presence of her parents.

“Even though I missed them physically, but I can sense their presence in my heart whenever I rubbed the stone against my cheek. I can hear papa and mama’s voice telling me to be strong like a cheetah,” said Mudit.

--The End --

It was a most difficult story to write... emotions were evoked, I had to pause, continue the next day, paused again.... before I could start again. Getting it to fit into the framework, the problem not being able to resolve.... How deep or what level of pain I want to take this child to go through? Lines were changed when I went back in to continue writing...hmmm wonder what is the reason to change the lines?

Will read this to children and see what the response will be as we both go on this therapeutic journey together within our space.

*Not able to work it out on audacity yet as I will need to consult my ALS team member to teach me.