HIDAYAH
1. Beginning Story
This is my story, a little girl who lives with foster parents and 1 foster sister. We live in a BUMN plantation under the foothills of the A Mountains.
My foster father works as an injecting Mantri at a tea and coffee plantation. He spent 24 hours of his time at the polyclinic available there.
Difficult road access, the distance between homes that are far apart, become an obstacle for local residents to seek treatment. Almost all of the residents in my residence are workers on the plantation.
But health access is only one so inevitably my adoptive father works 24 hours even though the house is dark if the patient comes father will definitely open his polyclinic house.
My own biological parents they've been divorced since I haven't turned 40 days old, I mean. Maybe that word is suitable for me.
But fate brought me a warm embrace of this family.
My parents had a family of their own, even my father was married first and had children. Actually the talaq fell when I was 3 weeks old. Then my mother went to take me to this family home whose notabanya is still my real mother's family she is the aunt of my mother.
Here my mother was accommodated 3 months my mother received a divorce letter from the local state court. I don't know where the origin is but the brown envelope has been received when my mother never got a call from the court.
With a heavy heart my mother received with airy chest ihklas. Soon my mother went across to scavenge for fortune and to continue her life.
And mother left me to her aunt, mother said if she got a job, she would send money to meet all my needs.
However, the months changed and the years passed, and it was unheard of until I turned 9, my mother came with a boy.
My foster mother introduced her and explained that she was my real mother. But I can't call her mother, no, because I don't want to but rather I don't know her !!
Even before he always explained who my biological parents were without them covering up.
My story goes, my adoptive father retired and he moved from his official home to the private house he had built during his tenure. I mutated the school, from the mountain school to the hot city school. I have a new friend and I am starting to adapt.
My new neighborhood, it's really different here the neighbors are just 10 meters from my house. Crossing the street I also found neighbors lined up. My house is close to the mosque arguably a wall with a mosque.
How not they look at me like they never see a human being with a Christian. Even the prickling of a kid my age sounds obvious.
"This is loo the christian boy"
"She's weird, look at her skin"
"It's cute but it's really high"
"Maybe Christians are all that"
"I don't want any more ah, unclean!"
And there are many more conversations that should not be spoken. Was I that bad, with a pushy look I saw them every time I went out of the house.
💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
Not everything that looks
according to what we think
Always think positive because
I conform to the presumption of my servant
(Muttafaqun 'Alaih)
This is my story I hope you like it. Don't forget to keep the trail. Like Coment And Rate Yes