Three Years Different

Section 3: Letter of Confession

"Good, Nay."

The warm crack that happened two minutes apart. The little girl looked at Mardiyah with her beautiful eyes, and asked, "Sister Mar, is it okay?"

"Lumayan."

Mardiyah got out of bed, opened the first drawer and after getting what she wanted, she turned around. "Make you, Nay."

"Co-chocolate?"

Mardiyah nodded. "Gift."

"Ma-thank you, Brother Mar."

Mardiyah slightly lowered her head-touching the two little girl's shoulders. "There. You go back to the dormitory," he said.

"I-iya, Brother. Naya pamit's. Assalamualaikum."

"Mosur."

Mardiyah never denied that hugs are effective to calm down. He's a little calm. Inayah's embrace was still felt, she also felt as if she was loved by the family. He understood that everyone in Al-Hikmah orphanage was his family. But still, not everyone is willing to accept.

The chocolate envelope was still on the bed. Today he is exactly twenty-one years old, mature enough to support himself. Ah no, he forgot all this time he was living alone in an orphanage. The sense of wanting to burn the letter given by the despicable woman was immense.

But what can? inner Mardiyah.

He was afraid of burning the letter, as well as taking away his respect for Umma Sarah-an orphanage mother who took care of him.

Mardiyah. "No. I can't."

Quickly Mardiyah opened the drawer and put the brown envelope there. He doesn't want to read it now, later. Yes, later if he is ready.

"Nonsense. Now it's just."

Mardiyah opened the drawer again. He was afraid that stalling would make him end up throwing a piece of paper in the envelope.

Relax, Mardiyah. You just open this letter, Inner Mardiyah.

When the envelope in the open paper inside looked worn, a little brownish was about to tear. So Mardiyah thought how many years has this letter been made? Ah, yes. At birth.

Mother's Child ...

The bigger you grow, the more beautiful you become. Unfortunately I didn't see that, son.

Believe me, son, I have no intention of throwing you away. I just don't feel like I can take care of you alone. I am afraid to abandon the trust God has given me, Son.

Think of this mother as a stupid young girl. Not being able to take care of yourself like a strong human being. People are right about your birth without Dad, you have nothing to be ashamed of. There is a young mother who is so good, she will take care of you in this orphanage.

Mardiyah's chest feels tight. Not because of his disappointment, but because of a woman who mentioned herself I have to be willing to leave children her age in this orphanage.

Mardiyah's hand squeezed the left side of the piece of paper. And continue reading.

Maybe the young mother will hand you this letter at about fifteen years old. Because I asked for it, honey. In the end, you must take care of yourself as well as possible, do not let others rule over you without your direct will.

Never be a darling ...

Son, I want to feel like Mom hugging you. Believe me every day I miss you, I don't know what your age will be. But I hope there's still time for Mom to see you again, I can't promise, but I'll see you.

Not when. Mom will definitely come.

Mardiyah's tears soaked the old paper, dripping little by little with pain in her chest that was getting deeper and deeper.

Excuse me.

Because I didn't give you a name. No, no, my dear, I love you very much. But really, Son ... I'm just afraid that man will come and take you as his son.

Mom didn't want that to happen.

You are a mother's child. No one can take you from Mom and that orphanage is the perfect place to make you grow up as a good girl.

My mother's name is Zanitha. An only child who can only make his parents suffer. I'm sorry I had to let you down and make you suffer.

I'm sorry I didn't give you a whole and happy family. Please forgive me, son.

Do'a Mother is only one for you ...

May there be a good man who makes you his wife and gives you the family and happiness you can never give.

Aamiins.

If we meet one day I want to know, what a beautiful name that good young mother gave you.

Greetings, Zanitha.

The old paper Mardiyah put next to him. He freelance. Isakan for the sake of a painful stuffing increasingly sounding lara, he had been bad to think of his mother. But really he remains disappointed, he prefers to live with his mother rather than having to live alone in this orphanage. What can he eat for? If he himself does not know whether the mother who gave birth to him has had enough or not? What is this place of residence for? If he himself does not know, his mother has a shelter or not.

"Bad mother ... I live here."

He was sitting down under the bed. "Mom think I-I'd be happy living without Mom?"

"Wicked mothers. I didn't know how sick I was all this time!"

On the brim of the wooden edge of the bed firmly, he lowered his head deeply. "It's better to live together and share the pain, ma'am."

"That's better. It was better ... than being alone and suffering each other without being able to meet like this ... Ma'am. Bad mother ..."