Tuesday, September 15, 2009

I Cried For My Brother Six Times

This story touched me so much. Maybe because I am also a person who loves my family so much. May this story inspire¬ you as well. Have a nice day everyone!

I was born in a secluded village of a mountain.Days by days my parents plowed the yellow dry soilwith their backs facing the sky.

I have a younger brother, 3 years younger than me.Once, to buy a handkerchief which all girls around meseemed to have, I stole 50 cents from my father'sdrawer. Father known about it right away. He made my younger brother and me kneeled against the wall, with a bamboo stick in his hand. "Who stole the money?" he asked.

I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Father didn't hearany of us admit, so he said, "Fine, if nobody wants toadmit, you two should be beaten!" He lifted up the bamboo stick. Suddenly, my younger brother gripped father's hand and said," Dad, I was the one who did it!"

The long stick smacked on my brother's backrepeatedly. Father was so angry that he kept on whipped my brother until he lost his breath. After that, he sat down on our stone bed and scolded my brother, "You have learnt to steal from your own house now, what other embarrassing things you will do in the future?? You should be beaten to death! You shameless thief!"



That night, mother and I hugged my brother. Hisbody full of injuries, but he didn't shed a single tear.
In the middle of the night, all of sudden I cried outloudly. My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said, " Sis, now don't cry anymore. Everything has happened." I still hate myself for didn't have enough courage to admit what I had done.

Years gone by, but the incident still looked like itjust happen! ed yesterday. I will never forget my brother's expression when he protected me. That year, my brother was 8 years old; I was 11 years old.



When my brother was in his last year of his lowersecondary school, he was accepted in an uppersecondary school in the central. At the same time, Iwas accepted into a province's university.
That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking,packet by packet. I could hear him said, "Both our children have good results? very good results?" Mother wiped off her tears and sighed," What is the use? How can we possibly finance both of them?"

At that time, my brother walked out, he stood in frontof father and said,"Dad, I don't want to continue mystudy anymore, I have read enough books." Father swung his hand and slapped brother on his face.
"Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if itmeans I have to beg for money on the streets, I willsend you two to school until you both finish yourstudy!"

And then, he started to knock on every house in thevillage to borrow money. I stuck out my hand as soft as I can to my brother's swollen face, and said, "A boy has to continue his study; If not, he will not be able to leave this depths of poverty."

Me, on the other hand, had decided not to further mystudy to university. Who knows on the next day, before dawn, my brother left the house with a few pieces of worn-out clothes and a few dry beans. He sneaked to the side of my bed and left a note on my pillow; "Sis, get into an university is not easy. I will go find a job and send money to you." I held the note while sitting on my bed, and cried until I lost my voice. That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old.

With the money father borrowed from the wholevillage, and money my brother earned from carryingcement on his back at cons! truction site,finally, Imanaged to get to the third year of my study in the university.



One day, I was studying in my room, when my roommate came in and told me,"There's a villager wait for you outside!" Why is there a villager looking for me? I walked out, and saw my brother from afar, His whole body is dirty, covered by dust, cement and sands. I asked him, "Why don't you tell my roommate that you are my brother?" He replied with a smile," Look at my appearance. What will they think if they know that I am your brother? Don't they laugh at you?" I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dusts from my brother's body. And said with a lump in my throat, " I don't care of what people say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance is?"

From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. Hewore it on me, and said, "I saw all the girls in townare wearing it. So, I think you should also have one."
I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled mybrother into my arms and cried and cried.
That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old.

The first time I brought my boyfriend home, the broken window had been repaired.And it looked so clean inside the house.

After, my boyfriend went home, I danced like a smallgirl in front of my mother, "Mom, you don't have tospend so many time cleaning the house!" But she saidwith a smile," It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Didn't you see the wound on his hand? He was injured while replacing the window."I went into my brother's small bedroom. Looking at histhin face, I felt like there are hundreds of needlepricked in my heart.
I put some ointment on his wound and bandaged it,"Does it hurt? " I asked him.
"No, it doesn't hurt. You know, when I was working inthe construction site, stones falling on my feet allthe time. Even that could not stop me from workingand?" In the middle of the sentence, he stopped. I turned my back on him and tears rolling down my face.
That year, my brother was 23 years old; I was 26 years old.



After I got married, I lived in the city. Lots of timemy husband invited my parents to come and live withus, but they didn't want. They said, once they left the village,they didn't know what to do. My brother also didn't agree, he said, "Sis, you just taking care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of mom and dad here."

My husband became the director of his factory. Wewanted my brother to get the job as the manager in the department of maintenance. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on starting to work as a reparation worker. One day, my brother was on the top of a ladder repairing a cable, when he got electrocuted, and was sent to the hospital.

My husband and I visited him. Looked at the whitegypsum on his leg, I grumbled,"Why did you reject tobe a manager? Manager will not do something dangerous like this. Look at you now, such a serious injury. Why you didn't want to listen to us?" With a serious expression on his face, he defended on his decision, "Think of brother-in-law?he just became the director, and I almost uneducated. If I became the manager, what kind of rumors will fly around?"



My husband's eyes filled up with tears, and then Isaid, "But you lack in education also because of me!""Why talking about the past?" My brother held my hand.

That year, he was 26 years old and I was 29 years old.My brother was 30 years old when he married a farmergirl from the village. In his wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, "Who is the one you respect and love the most?"

Without thinking, he answered," My sister." Hecontinued by telling a story I could not evenremember.

"When I was in primary school, the school was indifferent village.Everyday, my sister and I walked for2 hours to go school and go home. One day, I lost oneof my pair of gloves. My sister gave me one of hers.She only wore one glove and walked for so far. When we got home, her hand was so trembled because of the weather that was so cold that she could not evenhold her chopsticks. From that day on, I swore that aslong as I live, I would take care of my sister and begood to her."


Applause filled up the room. All guests turned theirattentions to me.

Words were so hard to come out from my mouth, "In my whole life, the one I would like to thank the most ismy brother,"
And in this happy occasion,in front of the crowd,tears rolling down my face again.

Love and care for the one you love every single daysof your life. You may think what you did is just asmall deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot.


Source: http://learn2here.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-cried-for-my-brother-six-times.html

1 comment:

Ismail N said...

This is a story that has been flying around everybody’s emails for years. I like it too, though I wonder about the reality of it.

Passionate Blogger
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Pengunjung yang baik selalu meninggalkan kesan dan pesan...!!! Terima kasih

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