Christmas morning! The family woke up early to go to church. Rajeeva and Roi had been ready for some time, and were waiting anxiously in the living room for the surprise. The children were taking their time. Their dad called them gently.
“Come on my treasures, my chicks. Come out of your nests.” The children looked at each other mischievously. What had happened? Their dad was not angry at them for taking their time. They came out of their rooms, curious. And what did they see? There were three gifts, lined up in a row under the tree, wrapped in pretty red paper. They stared with bulging eyes, not believing what they were looking at.
“Wow!” Awade cried out.
“Come on, my little ones, what kept you so long? Did none of you remember it's Christmas? Don’t you know well-behaved children get presents today?” their father joked. “Has Santa been to our house? When? How?” Awade asked overwhelmed with joy. “Which one is my gift?”
“This one. And be careful, little thing. Don’t you break it by tomorrow,” said Rajeeva, giving her youngest child a kiss.
“A racing car! Wow!”
“It runs on batteries,” said his mother proudly.
“Show me.”
“Let’s put the batteries in first, then you press the remote control and the car runs by itself,” his father explained.
“It's incredible!”
“The earrings are very pretty,” said Manori, giving her mom a kiss.
“Where’s my kiss?” Roi teased her.
Hanseni opened her parcel, and stood speechless. “Mom, Dad, what are these?” She held the books, caressed them, unable to believe her eyes. “Mom have you enrolled me in the school? Will I be able to go to the house on the hill with the red windows? I knew it; I knew that I would go there someday!” And she hugged and kissed her parents, dancing all the while.
“How did you know Hanseni?” the little boy said cheekily.
“A voice from within told me. That’s how I knew.”
“Is it the voice that speaks to you when you play that silly game on the beach?” Awade mocked her.
“You be quiet,” his mother reproached him. “These are her first English books. Hanseni put them away until it’s time to go to class.”
“Come on. Christmas Day mass is about to start,” their grandmother cried impatiently.
The family left for the church with unprecedented joy glowing on their faces. This was no ordinary day; they did not often exchange presents. The children had never received something so special before. Usually, they were given basic things, to feed them or to keep them warm.
“Come on, Hanseni, let’s go for a stroll,” Awade muttered after church.
“We’ve not finished yet. Didn’t you hear the teacher? The Sunday School children are going to sing Christmas Carols.”
“And when will that be over?”
“Whenever. What’s the rush?”
“I want to go for a stroll.”
“No, not today.”
“Why not?” the boy insisted.
“Have you forgotten that every year our uncles and cousins come to spend Christmas Day with us?”
“Will they stay long?”
“Didn’t you see Grandmother cooking all afternoon yesterday?”
“What did she cook?”
“What she cooks each year at Christmas: biryani, meat, rice, curry, vegetables and pineapple.”
“Well, it’s good to have our cousins come over, but I had other plans.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“We could go to the square. Nishian will also be there. I want to see if his parents let him go on the excursion.”
“What excursion? You didn’t say anything. Are you keeping secrets from me, you little devil?”
“No, I don’t keep secrets. But so much happened when I went fishing, I didn’t have time to tell you everything.”
“Well, tell me now.”
“Well, children from Nishian’s school are going on an excursion to Panvilee, and staying overnight. The monks at the monastery of Paterpola will put them up. Isn’t it fantastic?”
“And why won’t his parents allow him?”
Because he is the only boy in the family and his parents are afraid something awful might happen to him. How unlucky to be the only boy in the family,” Awade said with a comic sigh.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I'm the only boy, and you are overprotective of me as well. You watch me all day long.”
Hanseni hugged her little brother. She had carried him all the time when he was a baby. Now, she was content with hugging him. He had jet-black eyes and when he looked at people, they instinctively felt he was up to some mischief, so he grabbed everyone's attention.
“It's because I love you, you rascal, and you know it! That’s why you can wrap me round your little finger. Go on, go play with your nice racing car and stop complaining.”
Christmas Day was spent with their cousins, aunts and uncles, who came from the neighboring village. Everybody talked a lot. They kept asking questions, wanting to know everything. Grandmother was proud of her cooking skills. Everyone ate with gusto, and not a morsel was left. The children had gathered in the garden and played their own games. Awade had taken the precaution of hiding his toy racing car under his bed. He was sure that with so many nosy children, the car would be taken to pieces in no time.
Hanseni and Awade shared the same room. Their beds were next to each other. On the opposite wall there was a plastic cabinet to neatly store their clothes. To the left, was an old desk where the two children could study together. Manori shared a room with her grandmother. She preferred peace and quiet instead of the tricks of the younger ones, who made such a fuss all the time.
Hanseni put on her nightgown, took out her plaits and brushed her long jet-black hair. This was a process she repeated every night, with the same slow motions. It was not an easy task since her hair reached down to below her waist. She had beautiful hair and when it fell loose over her shoulders, it looked like a black torrent. She owed this to her mom because when she finished her chores, Rajeeva prepared coconut oil which she rubbed into the heads of her children, so they would have healthy and shiny hair. Beautiful hair was the most prized feature for a Sri Lankan girl.
Hanseni was brilliant and beautiful. When her black eyes looked at you, it was as if they uttered a thousand words. She had a slender nose and well-shaped lips. Everyone said that she would grow up to be a very special girl.
Awade kicked the sheet away impatiently.
“It's hot.”
Hanseni continued to brush her hair, while sitting on the bed. She slid the brush down her hair in slow movements, and let her thoughts travel to the countries she had learned about through the TV.
Are you listening? It's hot I’m telling you.”
“It’s fine. Go to sleep.” She was always annoyed when her brother interrupted her imaginary travels.
“I’m not sleepy.”
“Then read for a while until you fall asleep.” Their mom had put a small copy of the New Testament under their pillows, and encouraged them to read a chapter every night, to drive away unpleasant thoughts.
“I don’t want to. Shall we go to the square in the morning to see the bus leave?”
“Why are you so obsessed with this excursion?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because Nishian and I have become friends, and I want to see him leave.”
“We’ll see about it tomorrow. Go to sleep now.”