A soft glow seeped into the dark sky, hinting that dawn would soon break. Nora’s ears caught a sing-song morning prayer coming from the village mosque. The loudspeaker was old; making the melodious devotion sound like it was coming from a scratchy record.
The young girl wished that she could sleep some more, but she had to help her mother sell cakes. The basket felt heavier than usual that morning because her mother had added banana-leaf-wrapped glutinous rice to the normal fare.
Nora trudged along a well worn path and as usual wished that her father was still alive. She used to love walking down that way in the morning with him. She recalled that in those times, she need not have to carry a large basket of breakfast fares to sell to the people in the village. Her mother also need not wake up at two in the morning to make food to sell.
Her first customer was already up and watching out for her. Nenek is Nora’s favourite customer and it was a good thing she was the closest house too. The old lady always bought a lot of kuih from her, which helped lighten the load from her basket.
"Assalam mualaikum, Nenek," Nora called out, as any polite young Muslim child would do.
"Peace be to you too," the old lady replied in kind. "You are up early also today, very good. What have you got in your basket? Ahh, the coconut rice looks delicious." Nenek continued to chat as she selected whatever she need to feed her large extended family that morning. "You have grown taller, yes. Raya will be coming up soon. You must come to the house with your little sister tomorrow. I want to take measurements. Somebody gave Atuk a lot of cloth, so I can make pretty baju kurungs for both of you."
"Thank you, Nenek. I will bring Rina here tomorrow after school. Hurray, we can have new dresses for Raya."
Nora kissed the back of the old lady’s hand, picked up her basket and skipped down the path, calling "Kuih…. Kuih….." as she went along.
A tanned, gray haired man came out onto the balcony and stood next to Nenek. Husband and wife watched the little girl until she disappeared behind a row of hedges down the road.
"Abang," Nenek broke the silence, "do you know why Kassim stopped selling Mariam’s kuih in his sundry shop. It was doing so well, and he was earning quite a bit from them too."
"Ahhhh.... You women; always curious about such things. Why should we pry into his reasons? Charity should always be done with a sincere heart else God will use it against you. Why accuse others of not playing their part? As long as we do ours, everything will be alright. Now go back into the house, and do whatever it is you have to do."
Nenek sighed; her husband was a good and pious man. Sometimes she wished that he would gossip like her other friends’ husbands, but he never did. Still she had no regrets; he had always been a responsible husband and father. She sighed again, "Oh well, we cannot have it all."
Atuk turned to look at Nenek’s receding back as she padded back into the house. He lit his pipe and stared at the dawn as he pondered over the reason Kassim stopped selling the breakfast fares. The wife, Tipah, was jealous and she had accused Kassim of being interested in Mariam. Gossips, all those endless gossips. He was glad his wife was too busy with their young grandchildren to have time to socialize in that small village. In his 62 years of life, he had seen too many lives ruined by people who had nothing better to do with themselves other than talk. Oh well, God is good, even if one does not offer help to an orphan, God will find another who will. The old man sent a paean of thanks to heaven, relieved that he never had to go through the same kind of predicament as Kassim.
The little girl’s call of "Kuih…. Kuih…." coloured the quiet surroundings. Some opened windows were slammed shut when she passed. Yet she continued to shout as loud as she could, knowing full well that her success that morning would contribute to her meal for the day. Other windows did stay open and the residents would come out and looked into her basket and searched for fares that suit their appetite.
Nora finally reached the last house. Her class teacher usually reserved the food she wanted for breakfast a day ahead, so Nora’s mother could pack them separately.
"Assalam mualaikum, Cikgu," Nora called.
"Mualaikum salam, Nora. Oh you are such a good girl helping your Umi like this everyday. Has she gone rubber tapping?"
"No, she cannot go yet. Rina has another fever, Umi has to wait for me to get home. I’m sorry teacher; I cannot go to school again today."
"That is alright. I will come by the house in the afternoon and show you what to do for your homework."
Sarimah paid for her breakfast and congratulated the young girl for her empty basket. Nora said her good-byes and rushed back home with a skip in her steps. Another good day; her basket empty and her pockets full.
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