In response to daily post’s one-word prompt : Candle
Many years ago when I was eleven,my dad took us to Bangladesh for a visit. we had a good time in our maternal grandpa’s village. He loved gardening, he had a large area where he planted different fruits ones I never heard of before, it was a treat going into grandpa’s fruit garden and taste the delicious fruits he planted.
When we were there my mom’s youngest brother, my uncle entertained us with his imaginary stories we loved hearing them and asked for more. Uncle and aunt had two children a boy and a girl, when I saw the girl she was an infant lying in her cradle. She was tiny and very sweet, my aunt used to leave her in the cradle for hours.
One day I went to see her, she was moving her legs, I wanted to pick her up, I wasn’t sure I’d be allowed.
After my dad passed away we moved to Comilla, Bangladesh, permanently.
One day my mom told me that my pretty little cousin was playing with her brother with a lighted candle, I have no idea how those two children got hold of a burning candle. The flame burned my cousin’s dress ,her brother was crying for help, there was no one around, when someone in the family saw her, it was already too late, she had third degree burns, and died because of lack of medical help.
She was only two years old. It was a sad day for her parents and the brother.