September 11, 2016: Stump
The other children would quiet down when Tahu passed by. He was the grumpiest child in the neighborhood. He would spoil any fun the other boys and girls would be having by throwing a fuss. At any sight of fun, Tahu would make it a point to ruin the humor. On one bright summer afternoon, a group of young boys saw Tahu huffing, puffing and stumping as he walked down the street. Usually, they would have ducked and hidden to avoid Tahu until he passed by, but this time he wasn’t walking towards them. In fact, he was not paying attention to anything around him, indifferent to any fun being had. There was a different look on Tahu’s face that day, a kind of defeated anguish. The young boys later learned that the shelter he slept in was an abandoned one, except for a small cat who disappeared the day they noticed something different about Tahu. That cat was all Tahu had, the only being that stuck by him. Tahu, only eight years old, was now truly alone. His huffing and stumping turned into quiet desolation. With a youthful conscious, the same group of young boys sought after Tahu one day to ask him to play – no one had ever asked Tahu to play before. But it was too late, there was no sight of Tahu. The only thing left was a beautiful sketch carved into a big tree stump next to his abandoned, decaying shelter. It showed a little boy holding the hand of a grown man on one side and a grown woman on the other side, watching a group of four young boys playing a game of soccer in the front yard of a beautiful, well-kept home.