The Courage of Children: Boston and Beyond XXX

Abdullah Mohammed Hassan
Maeen Ali & Seena Dua’is, Teachers
Abjad Schools, Al Wahda, Sana’a, Yemen
My family consists of my parents, myself, three brothers, and a deceased sister
who passed away when I was five years old. She is always in my mind. She died
because of medical malpractice. I went to school in the village where we used
to live. When we moved to the city our financial status worsened and I had to
find a job to support my family. My mother started making a special mix of
ground chili-peppers with other spices, and I had to stroll the streets and sell
them in small bags. I was eleven years old and I had just finished grade five. I
was very sad to quit school and spend the whole day moving from one street
to another selling my mother’s product. When I went back home every night,
I was usually so exhausted that I fell asleep on the bus. I gave all the money I
made to my father.
Every morning, I looked with envy at all the children on their way to school. I
felt bad for myself, so I always tried to find used school books to read during
the evenings in the street when there was less traffic. I usually sat below a street
light and lost myself in a book for an hour or two at a time. I was determined
to teach myself, but I was under too much pressure. I also faced many
problems in the streets. Once a motorcycle hit me while I was walking. I fell
down and all the small bags of chili were scattered around. The biker helped
me collect them, and I thanked him and said I was fine even though my leg
and arm were in pain. He offered me some money, but I refused to take any,
thinking that he was like me, trying to support his family. On another occasion
I fell in a muddy pit and spoiled some scarves I was selling. I had to go back
home and clean the scarves to sell the next day. I also got lost in the streets
numerous times, falling asleep until someone woke me up.
One day, a few months ago, I was sitting below a street light reading an old
school book when a woman saw me and approached me. When she came
to me she said that she had called to me several times and I did not pay
attention. I told her I was enjoying the reading. She bought a few bags of my
mother’s ground chili-peppers, paid me, and left. She came again the next
day, bought a larger amount, and started asking me what I was reading. I
told her that I couldn’t afford to go to school, but I loved reading, and I read
school books to prepare myself for school if the time ever came. She gave me
a sealed envelope with some money, but I refused to take it. She said: “This
is not for you, give it to your father.” I took the envelope and handed it to my
father, unopened. In the envelope also was a message to my father, asking him
to allow me to go to school and offering to help pay for my education. Her
The Courage of Children: Boston and Beyond
106