I was on my way back from Alamanda this afternoon when I saw a grandfather canning his granddaughter with a stick. The girl was about 5 or 6 years old and she was using her grandmother as her shield. The grandmother had a helpless look on her face, between embarressment and not wanting to cause a scene but she was trying her best to protect her granddaughter. Maybe she was also afraid of her husband.
On one hand, we always thought, how could someone do that in public. Maybe she was naughty and deserved it. Who am I to judge, when I too left a bruise on Faiq's leg when I pinched him recently. When I saw the bruise, I couldn't believe I did that. Did I pinched him that hard? I couldn't remember if he cried. Yes, he was naughty! But nothing beats the guilt and shame whenever he says, "Mama yang buat!" Those words still haunt me and I never fail to get teary-eyed and sad whenever I see it or think about it.
Forgiveness is all I can beg for, and hope that eventually his memory of that incident will fade away.
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