A day I got a grandson

It was a stunning morning. The sun rose beautifully in the sky and looked down at the earth with a pinnacle of majestic touch to it. The birds were chirping, the wind making the trees move as in a projectile curve. The roads are filled with vehicles, rushing towards their destinations, trying to beat time.
The schools had begun and students were remorsefully dragged to the class by their parents.
I was sitting on the park silently, with my walking stick beside me, my only companion which has never left me over the years.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was my daughter. “So, what have you decided?”, I asked her. “ I don’t know dad, I am not sure”.
“Look honey, adoption is not a sin. In fact, it is beautiful. You are giving a new life to someone. You should be blessed to have that privilege. I know how bad you wanted to have a kid on your own, but God wants you to choose this. Go ahead. Adopt a child. Give a beautiful life to a needy soul. You will be blessed forever.” My daughter gave a promising reply and cut off the line.
My daughter loved kids. But due to some unfortunate incidents, her body was left unfit to bear a child. Finally, she has considered the thought of adopting a child after lots of persuasion. It was a difficult phase for her, for us.
I decided I wanted to take my mind off that for a while.
I turned towards my right. I saw a BMW car, stopping at the entry of a school. A man, probably the father of the child, rushed out to the door and opened it. A young kid, half the size of the man, jumped off the car. The kid was perfect. A black suit, with ties, well polished shoes, glowing white skin and last but not the least, angry wet eyes. I could tell that the kid wasn’t too happy seeing the school. His father lifted him up, planted a kiss on his cheeks, or at least meant to. He ended up kissing the hair since the angry kid turned away from the loving dad. The dad however dropped the kid in the school and waved a good bye.
“Sir?”. I turned to my left side. A boy stood there, quite similar to the age of the boy I had just been talking so much about. But this boy was different. He did not wear a suit, rather a unclean, crushed piece of clothing. His skin was wet with dirt, like a oil grease. He did not own a BMW, rather had a punctured bicycle. “Sir”?. His voice brought me back to reality again.
I smiled at the boy. “What do you want, son”?. “Money”, the reply came, rather sharp and short.
“Uh”, was my reply. It’s not a everyday routine when a stranger comes and ask for money , is it?
“I want money Sir. I don’t have any”, the boy spoke.
I asked the boy to sit beside me. I gave him a energy drink I had. He clearly seemed to be thirsty.
“Tell me about you”, I said.
“I’m Raj, an orphan. I don’t have parents, nor relatives. I work for a daily wage. But I don’t want to. I want to study. I want to go to school. I want to be a kid.” “Why did you come to me now”, I asked.
“You look similar to my dad”, he told me.
I don’t know why but there was involuntary tears in my eyes. I patted the boy on his head, which he seemed to like.
“I need money”, he spoke again.
“You need a home”, I told him. I took him with me. I decided to leave him at a orphanage. I was not well equipped to take care of him. I just hoped to God that he will find a new home. I really hoped someone good will come along, looking for a kid and give him a new, fresh and a meaningful life with lots of love and care.
I came back and sat on the same place, pondering about the cruelty of life. I had seen 2 kids today, same age. But why are their life so different? One kid comes in a BMW and cries, while the other kid longs to go to school. What wrong did he do? Did he not deserve to go to school?
I don’t know. But all kids deserve education. They deserve love. They are all equal. I wanted to take him with me. However, speaking practically, I can’t. I don’t have the resources. My daughter has. But I can’t “recommend” a kid to her. It’s her choice.
I decided to go back home. I walked slowly with my walking stick, fired up my car and switched on some unwanted radio. I opened the door and took a glass of wine.
“Sir”?. I heard a voice. Not just a voice. A familiar voice.
“Sir?”. It came again. I turned towards my back. It was Raj. I was shocked to see him here, at MY home!
Before I could talk anything, my daughter appeared there. She lifted him in her hands, and gave him a maternal kiss on his cheek. He gave out a wide smile and returned the favour for my daughter.
“Dad. Here is your grandson. I adopted him”.