‘Even a minor event in the life of a child is an event in that child's world … and thus a world event’.
Paduma's raffle
The village elders are arranging a pilgrimage to Sri Pada. Uleris vedarala is the chief organiser A list is open and there will be space for thirty adults.
'What about children?' Paduma asks. His anxiety is plain. 'Aren't they taking children?'

'My ammi asked. Uleris grumbled but later agreed to take the first six who pay up.' 'Pay?' Paduma groans in dismay. 'Why should children pay? They won't give us a seat in the bus even, and we won't eat much.' 'How much for children?' Bothalay asks suspiciously.

'Two hundred for big people, fifty for children.' 'Fifty? Fifty rupees? That old rogue needs one of his own kassayas.' Paduma wails: 'How can we find so much money?'

'Are you mad?' Paduma's mother asks. 'I have no money for these things.'
'Give the fellow ten rupees, mother,' his sister Kumari says. 'Remember we won't have to feed him for two days then.'

Manika is not convinced. She mutters to herself but finally agrees on condition Paduma collects the balance forty rupees. Paduma is not sure if this is a victory or a defeat. He walks towards the wäwa. 'I asked my ammi for the money,' Mahi says. 'She is not sure if it is safe to let me go alone.'

'Why? Does she think you'll roll down the hill and crush all the pilgrims?' Bothalay asks. 'Or maybe she thinks the mountain will topple?'
Mahi Bada jumps to his feet wrathfully but Paduma pulls him back.
'What is she going to do?'

'If she can find someone to look after me, she'll let me go.'
Bothalay says: 'I got the money.'
'What?'
'Yes,' he goes on happily. 'I already went and paid to Uleris. Only five more places now.'

Paduma looks at his friend with surprise and envy.
'How did you get the money so easily?'
'I said teacher told me I am first in class,' Bothalay says. 'My father is so happy, he gave me the money.'

'But … but even tests are not over,' Mahi says. 'How can you be first?'
'Yes, but my father doesn't know that.'
'You fool,' Mahi goes on. 'When he finds out you'll get it … adi pudi.'
'Ah yes,' Bothalay says, laughing, 'but money already paid. Uleris won't give back.'

Paduma pretends to be pleased for his friends. Bothalay has already paid up and Mahi will get round his mother. Only he, Paduma, is unable to find the money. He grinds his teeth in frustration.

He needs to find the money quickly too, for there are only six places; all over the village children will be pestering their parents for the money. How much time does he have to find forty rupees?

Paduma decides sadly that no one will give him the money; he has to work for it. He has no doubt that his labour is very valuable. How much work will he have to do to earn forty rupees? Who should be given the chance hire him?

Paduma goes to Josa Mudalali.
Josa is nailing a loose board on his counter. The fat man looks up thinking a customer has come; he frowns when he sees Paduma.
'What do you want?' he asks suspiciously.

'I'm trying to collect money to go to Sri Pada,' Paduma mumbles. 'Can I work for you? Maybe …you can pay me something?'
'You? What work can you do?' Josa growls. 'Go away before I give you one across the ear.'
'Aney mudalali …'

'Palayang yanna' he says as he turns back to his task.
Go away.
'Please, I'll do any work …'
The fat man's body seems to shudder and Paduma wonders if he is ill. He turns around and beckons to Paduma.
'All right,' he says in a resigned voice. 'Come here then.'

Paduma is delighted; his persistence has paid off. He walks up to the counter and examines Josa's work with interest. Perhaps he'll be asked to complete the job. It looks easy. At the next moment Paduma is howling in pain as Josa grasps his ear between two banana-like fingers.

'I'm not giving you any work, you little rotter,' Josa snarls, 'and I don't want to see you here unless you're buying something. Do you understand?'
'OW. OW. OW.'

Josa releases him and Paduma, who had been standing on his toes to ease the agony, rubs his aching ear. Josa stretches out his hand again and Paduma flinches; then through his watering eyes he sees a crumpled ten-rupee note.

'Take this and go,' the man says. 'If I see you hanging around again, I'll break both your legs.'
'Maybe Uleris will let you come for thirty rupees if you promise not to eat anything,' Mahi Bada suggests. 'It's only two days.'

'Don't talk like a fool,' Paduma says. 'Can I wait two days without food?'
'Isn't there anyone else you can go to?' Bothalay asks. 'Who else has money?'
'No,' Paduma says morosely, kicking a cowpat. 'Sudu mama only gave ten. There's no one else.'

They have passed through the village and are now on the footpath going round the wäwa towards the forest. Paduma kicks another cowpat and sees something move by a tussock.

Paduma raises his hand and the others stand still. He fixes his eyes on the spot. The object that had attracted his attention now blends into the background so well that it has disappeared. Could it be that he had seen stalks of dried grass moving in the wind?

Paduma moves forward slowly till he crouches over the spot. Even up close it takes a moment to see the baby hare that sits unmoving in the tussock, a tiny brown ball of fur.

By instinct the baby knows that its best chance is to sit perfectly still and depend on its colour to conceal it. That same instinct leads to its undoing, for the animal doesn't move even when Paduma stretches out his hand and picks it up.

They stand in a small circle looking with wonder at the tiny creature in Paduma's fist.
'Does it bite?' Mahi Bada asks. 'My ammi says all wild animals are dangerous.'

'You fool,' Bothalay hoots. 'Hares don't bite people.'
'That's what you say,' Mahi says, looking around nervously. 'What if the mother sees us stealing her baby? She might bite.'
'Oh shut up,' Paduma says. 'Let's take this fellow home. We must make a cage.'

'How?'
'Josa has thrown away some broken boxes. We'll use the pieces.'
'What will the baby eat?' Bothalay asks. 'Maybe it needs milk.'
'Undupiyaliya,' Paduma says confidently. 'That's what hare eat.'
The planks are all crooked, the nails are bent and the box is not quite square, but it is ready at last. Bothalay, who had bravely held the nails while Paduma pounded on them with a rock, is moaning softly as he sucks his bruised thumb.

They look on with awe as the tiny animal hops around the enclosure. It seems quite at home even if it has not looked at the clover they had collected.

'Are we going to give it a name?' Mahi Bada asks.
'I'm going to call it Saro,' Paduma announces. 'She will become red like beetroot when she hears.'
'How do you know it is a girl hare?' Mahi asks.
'Don't know. We'll just say.'

They squat round the enclosure with their eyes on the small creature.
'I have an idea,' Paduma says suddenly, 'how to find the balance money.'
'You want to sell the fellow?' Bothalay asks. 'Who will buy a baby hare for twenty rupees?'

'No. Not selling,' Paduma goes on. 'We'll have a raffle. We can make thirty tickets all one rupee each. Can have ten rupees extra for spending.'
'But who will buy your tickets?' Bothalay, still nursing his sore thumb, asks morosely. 'Don't only ask me to sell at home.'

'We'll show the baby to the girls at school,' Paduma says. 'All will want to buy for one rupee.'
'Saro won't buy.'
'Never mind her,' Paduma chortles. 'All the others will want a baby hare called Saro.'

The girls, even some of the smaller boys, jostle one another to get a closer look at the tiny animal in the cardboard box. Most of the playground activity stops as the children crowd round Paduma.
Saro's face is black with anger. She pulls her friends away but Bothalay and Mahi find the tickets selling briskly. Their pockets bulge with coins when the bell rings, ending the interval.

'How many did you sell?' Paduma asks as they hurry towards the classroom. He has promised to announce the winner after school.
Have they sold enough tickets?
'I have three left,' Mahi says.

'I have four,' Bothalay says. 'That means, how many have we sold?'
'Don't know,' Paduma answers, scratching his head, 'but enough, I think.'
Miss Kanthi takes them to her favourite spot by the bund for parisaraya class. Paduma thinks she looks especially pretty today in a bright pink sari. They sit in a circle under the old kumbuk tree.
Saro goes to Miss Kanthi and whispers in her ear. The teacher looks up and calls Paduma.

'Ah, Paduma,' her voice is gentle, 'is it true that you're keeping a baby hare in a box? You're selling raffle tickets?'
That sneak Saro; she is going to pay for this!
'Yes, miss.'

'Why are you doing this?'
'To collect money for the trip,' Paduma explains. 'I needed twenty rupees more.'

Miss Kanthi looks at him kindly but her voice is firm.
'That is a wild creature; it doesn't belong in a box. You will do the right thing, won't you, and return it to where you found it?'
'But miss, we took money for tickets …'

'Return the money,' Miss Kanthi says, 'then there's no problem.'
Paduma would have defied any other teacher but how can he refuse Miss Kanthi? It is like cutting his own hand off but his affection for the gentle parisaraya teacher is strong. He even draws some bitter satisfaction from his sacrifice.

But when he walks back home after returning the little hare to the wild, his heart is heavy. The raffle had been his last chance of collecting the money. Now it is gone and with it, his chance of going on the trip.
His mother is at the door with a worried frown.

'There's a letter for you … from school. Are you in trouble? What mischief have you been up to?'
'Who brought the letter?' Paduma asks, looking at the brown envelope suspiciously.

'That teacher, Miss Kanthi.'
Oh miss, I trusted you. Why did you report me to the principal?
Paduma opens the envelope with shaking fingers then stares at it in surprise. Inside the envelope is a crisp brown twenty-rupee note.

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