Southend U3A

Writing for Fun

April 2018

The Immigrant - Diane Silverston

It was a strange feeling. A new one. He hadn't really got a word that covered it.

Was he scared? Not really. Frightened? No. Nervous? A little. But why? He didn't know.

Everywhere he looked was so different but beautiful. So green and fresh and there was a gentle cooling breeze surrounding him. So different from the hot sun-baked desert he had always known. Here there was a riot of colour but it was the greenness that transfixed him.

He was standing barefoot, in his new shorts and t-shirt. He could feel the coolness, the soft cushion of grass beneath him. It was the first time he had seen and felt it. He remembered being told about it but this exceeded all expectations.

He started to run and jump around, enjoying the sensation of his feet being tickled by the blades of grass. So different from the cracked sun-burnt earth he had known all of his life. He lay on his back and watched the clouds scurrying across the sky, making weird and magical shapes that were forever changing. One minute a dog, then a dragon. What magician was creating them?

Suddenly he felt moisture on his face, a few spots at a time, cool and refreshing. Another strange occurrence.

All of a sudden through his thoughts came a familiar sound. 'What do you think you are doing?' His Mother's voice. 'Joseph, come in out of the rain. You'll get soaked.'

He realised that the sky had darkened and it was raining heavily now.

All the greens around him had changed, still beautiful but so different.

'Come in, come in you silly boy,' his mother's voice once again broke into his thoughts.

As he came in the kitchen door, she wrapped him in a towel and started to rub him dry.

'Go and change before you catch cold. Whatever will your Grandmother think?'

His Grandmother, who he had met for the first time last night, when he arrived. His Grandmother with her grey hair but soft brown eyes.

His Grandmother with her hugs and beautiful smile. His grandmother.

Apart from his mother she was the only family he had now. It was her house they were in. Was he going to be able to stay here? Or would they have to move on again.

This was his mother's childhood home, but she had left years ago, and only returned with him last night. Could they stay? He hoped so.

His young life so far hadn't been easy or happy. His father and two sisters had died during the last year. He had often felt scared and hungry. Strange and frightening things had been happening. He and his mother had been lucky to get away safely.

His parents had gone there to help people, to give them hope. Now he and his mother needed help and hope for the future.

'Joseph. What are you doing? Come on down. We are waiting for you. Come on or breakfast will get cold.'

Breakfast! He had forgotten. He was supposed to be having breakfast. He rushed downstairs and joined his mother and grandmother.

'At last!' a new voice said,' I thought you were never coming.' His grandmother was smiling at him. 'Come on lad, give me a hug.'

He ran over to her and wrapped his arms around her.

'What a strong hug. You may only be five but you've strong arms. You are both safe here. I'm happy and contented now. Come on, eat up.'

That strange feeling was back. He had words that covered it now. He felt safe, happy and contented.