Amira and Grace (Jan 2017)
(Words 1156 / 4 mins)
She had never told anybody this before, but her new and unexpected friend seemed to make all her secrets so much easier to share. Maybe it was because she was from the other side of the world. Maybe it was because they spoke a different language and shared no history. Grace wasn’t even sure how much Amira understood of the letters she wrote to her.
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Amira” she faltered, pulling at the sleeves of her cardigan.
“Where do you live?”
A shake of the head,
“Where are your friends?”
“I don’t know.”
Amira had run away from home, Grace hadn’t really understood what this meant, she’d heard the passing conversation amongst the grown ups, she’d seen her Grandfather’s eyebrows raise when her Mother had commented on the refugees that we were collecting for in school but she hadn’t understood that they were actually from another country, spoke a different language and had nothing, absolutely nothing, until she had met Amira.
Grace always sat by the door in her classroom and Amira had been brought in by their Headteacher part way through the second week of term. Grace had been resigned to sitting on the corner table on her own again, by the bin and by the traffic lights on the wall that perpetually showed her name on ‘red’, it was a surprise when she had been trusted with a new girl and she had quickly worked out that here she had a captive audience and potential ally.
“I like you” whispered Grace
“I think we’ll be best friends, I’ll show you what to do. It’s very important that you are in the right places when you’re meant to be and that you know when to be quiet, although I don’t think that will be a problem.”
At break time Grace led Amira through the routine as promised:
“We go over here to wash our hands.
Then we go back to the mat and sit like this.” Grace crossed her legs and arms and put her finger to her lips, Amira did the same.
“We can choose a carrot or a pear, look for the ones without black spots on.” confided Grace, pointing out the murky blemishes on the snacks and shaking her head in disgust.
Grace watched as Amira took her first bite of snack, she was as enraptured by the new girl as the new girl was intent on following Grace’s every move. She watched as Amira fiddled with her knee socks, slipped her feet in and out of her badly fitting pumps and pulled at her sleeves then she was rewarded when Amira glanced up and smiled back at Grace.
When she got home from school Grace wanted to talk to Amira, she had so many questions she wanted to ask her about her home and where she had come from. Did she have any brothers and sisters, pets, did she like TV or collect stickers? Of all the schools in the whole country, why had she chosen to come to this school? At teatime Grace had asked her Mum and Grandfather instead, unable to glean very much more other than that Amira would have come a long way and that Grace should be kind to her.
On Amira’s second day Grace was was looking forward to seeing her new friend and wanted to make her feel welcome so she smuggled some of her own things into school and passed them across furtively whilst they were still in the cloakroom; a pencil and little notebook to start.
“For you, from me” Grace smiled and mimed a giving action.
Amira smiled back. Grace thought it felt nice to make someone smile.
That night Grace’s head full of Amira again, she began by drawing a picture. She drew her house and her family. She labelled them carefully, Grace, Mum, Grandfather, in her neatest writing. She drew a smile on her own face, and big eyebrows on her Grandfather. She drew the cat and the rabbit, she labelled her own bedroom window and the front door with a clear number 20 written in the middle of it. She folded the piece of paper up and printed on the outside “To Amira love from Grace” and underneath “G →A”. She handed the little note to Amira in the cloakroom on her third day at school and prodded Amira to put it straight into her coat pocket.
They spent the day together again, huddled on a low wall by the story corner at play time, communicating gently and slowly, each girl patient and comfortable with their new friend. The next day Amira had a return note for Grace, she told her sternly to put it in her coat, Grace, alarmed at the tone until she caught Amira’s eye and realised she was mimicking their teacher.
The day passed quickly, it was new to Grace to get through a day without being told off, her name had stayed on green! She couldn’t wait to get home and read her note from Amira, it was the first letter she had ever received and actually, Amira was her first real friend too. Grace pulled the note from her coat pocket and saw “A→G” in small print on the outside. She was in her room alone when she looked at the discomforting drawing that was held in her hands.
Should she take it to Mum, or Grandfather? No, Amira had trusted her. Grace could not stop looking at the picture that Amira had drawn, did she really mean what the picture was showing her? There was what looked like a single storey house, then an arrow and a carefully drawn half a house, with rubble and beds, tables, books, all tumbling out of the structure like sweets falling out of a jar. Then there was a line of little people, so detailed…..maybe Grandmother, Grandfather, Mother, Father, a boy, another boy, a girl that was Amira and finally a dog. Then an arrow, then just the Mummy, Daddy and Amira. Grace looked at every detail of their clothes, their hair, the little buckled shoes. Amira was an amazing drawer, but the pictures made Grace sad. She was intrigued by the differences, what this other girl saw, but so sad when she looked at what had changed.
Grace decided not to show anyone. Instead she chose a soft toy, a little dog, small enough to put in her pocket and she put it with Amira’s note under her pillow. Tomorrow she would give it to Amira along with her reply G→A. Grace was sad for Amira but she had things that made her sad in her life too and she knew she could share her secrets with Amira. She fell asleep dreaming a muddle of her life and Amira’s where buildings crumbled, armies battled and Grace never knew which side she was meant to be on.
