One day I decided to quit...I quit my job, my relationship, my spirituality. ... I wanted to quit my life. I went to the woods to have one last talk with God.
"God", I said. "Can you give me one good reason not to quit?"
His answer surprised me.
"Look around", He said. "Do you see the fern and the bamboo?"
"Yes", I replied.
"When I planted the fern and the bamboo seeds, I took very good care of them. I gave them light. I gave them water. The fern quickly grew from the earth. Its brilliant green covered the floor. Yet nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.
In the second year the fern grew more vibrant and plentiful. And again, nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.
In year three there was still nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit. The same in year four.
Then in the fifth year, a tiny sprout emerged from the earth.
Compared to the fern, it was seemingly small and insignificant.
But just six months later, the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall.
It had spent the five years growing roots. Those roots made it strong and gave it what it needed to survive. I would not give any of my creations a challenge it could not handle.
"Did you know, my child, that all this time you have been struggling, you have actually been growing roots? I would not quit on the bamboo.. I will never quit on you.
"Don't compare yourself to others." He said. "The bamboo had a different purpose than the fern. Yet they both make the forest beautiful.
"Your time will come", God said to me. "You will rise high"
"How high should I rise?" I asked.
"How high will the bamboo rise?" He asked in return.
"As high as it can?" I questioned
"Yes." He said, "Give me glory by rising as high as you can."
I left the forest, realizing that God will never give up on me. And He will never give up on you.
Never regret a day in your life.
Good days give you happiness; bad days give you experiences; both are essential to life.
Author Unknown
Got this from Mich's blog and decided to post it here too.
Never...
Never love if your not prepared to be hurt,
Never start if you dont have plans to finish,
Never speak if you dont mean it, most importantly...
NEVER USE SOMEONE TO MOVE ON...
Never start if you dont have plans to finish,
Never speak if you dont mean it, most importantly...
NEVER USE SOMEONE TO MOVE ON...
Things I've Learned by Dr. Maya Angelou
In April 4, 2007, Dr. Maya Angelou was interviewed by Oprah on her 79th birthday. Oprah asked her what she thought of growing older.Regarding body changes, she said there were many, occurring every day... like her breasts. They seem to be in a race to see which will reach her waist, first. The audience laughed so hard they cried. She is such a simple and honest woman, with so much wisdom in her words!
Maya Angelou said this:
"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow."
"I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights."
"I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life."
"I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as 'making a life'."
"I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance."
"I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back."
"I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision."
"I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one."
"I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone."
"People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back."
"I've learned that I still have a lot to learn."
"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."
The Boy Who Had No Ears
"Can I see my baby?" the happy new mother asked. When the bundle was nestled in her arms and she moved the fold of cloth to look upon his tiny face, she gasped. The doctor turned quickly and looked out the tall hospital window. The baby had been born without ears. Time proved that the baby's hearing was perfect. It was only his appearance that was marred.
When he rushed home from school one day and flung himself into his mother's arms, she sighed, knowing that his life was to be a succession of heartbreaks. He blurted out the tragedy. "A boy, a big boy...called me a freak."
He grew up, handsome for his misfortune. A favorite with his fellow students, he might have been class president, but for that. He developed a gift, a talent for literature and music. "You might mingle with other young people," his mother reproved him, but felt a tenderness in her heart.
The boy's father had a session with the family physician. Could nothing be done? "I believe I could graft on a pair of outer ears, if they could be procured" the doctor decided. Whereupon the search began for a person who would make such a sacrifice for a young man.
Two years went by. Then, "You are going to the hospital, son. Mother and I have someone who will donate the ears you need. But it's a secret", said the father. The operation was a brilliant success, and a new person emerged.
His talents blossomed into genius, and school and college became a series of triumphs. Later he married and entered the diplomatic service. "But I must know!" he urged his father. "Who gave so much for me? I could never do enough for him."
"I do not believe you could," said the father, "but the agreement was that you are not to know...not yet."
The years kept their profound secret, but the day did come - one of the darkest days that ever pass through a son. He stood with his father over his mother's casket. Slowly, tenderly, the father stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, reddish-brown hair to reveal a secret - that the mother had no outer ears.
"Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut," he whispered gently, "and nobody ever thought mother less beautiful, did they?"
Real beauty lies not in the physical appearance, but in the heart. Real treasure lies not in what can be seen, but what cannot be seen. Real love lies not in what is done and known, but in what is done but not known.
Isn't a mother's love fantastic? Nobody knows all the sacrifices she makes.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!
Author unknown
I copied this article from this blog.
When he rushed home from school one day and flung himself into his mother's arms, she sighed, knowing that his life was to be a succession of heartbreaks. He blurted out the tragedy. "A boy, a big boy...called me a freak."
He grew up, handsome for his misfortune. A favorite with his fellow students, he might have been class president, but for that. He developed a gift, a talent for literature and music. "You might mingle with other young people," his mother reproved him, but felt a tenderness in her heart.
The boy's father had a session with the family physician. Could nothing be done? "I believe I could graft on a pair of outer ears, if they could be procured" the doctor decided. Whereupon the search began for a person who would make such a sacrifice for a young man.
Two years went by. Then, "You are going to the hospital, son. Mother and I have someone who will donate the ears you need. But it's a secret", said the father. The operation was a brilliant success, and a new person emerged.
His talents blossomed into genius, and school and college became a series of triumphs. Later he married and entered the diplomatic service. "But I must know!" he urged his father. "Who gave so much for me? I could never do enough for him."
"I do not believe you could," said the father, "but the agreement was that you are not to know...not yet."
The years kept their profound secret, but the day did come - one of the darkest days that ever pass through a son. He stood with his father over his mother's casket. Slowly, tenderly, the father stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, reddish-brown hair to reveal a secret - that the mother had no outer ears.
"Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut," he whispered gently, "and nobody ever thought mother less beautiful, did they?"
Real beauty lies not in the physical appearance, but in the heart. Real treasure lies not in what can be seen, but what cannot be seen. Real love lies not in what is done and known, but in what is done but not known.
Isn't a mother's love fantastic? Nobody knows all the sacrifices she makes.
HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!!
Author unknown
I copied this article from this blog.
A.S.A.P.
Ever wonder about the abbreviation A.S.A.P.? Generally we think of it in terms of even more hurry and stress in our lives. Maybe if we think of this abbreviation in a different manner, we will begin to find a new way to deal with those rough days along the way.
There's work to do, deadlines to meet;
You've got no time to spare,
But as you hurry and scurry-
ASAP - ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER
In the midst of family chaos,
"Quality time" is rare.
Do your best; let God do the rest-
ASAP - ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER.
It may seem like your worries
Are more than you can bear.
Slow down and take a breather-
ASAP - ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER
God knows how stressful life is;
He wants to ease our cares,
And He'll respond to all your needs
A.S.A.P. - ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER.
God bless and have a wonderful day!
There's work to do, deadlines to meet;
You've got no time to spare,
But as you hurry and scurry-
ASAP - ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER
In the midst of family chaos,
"Quality time" is rare.
Do your best; let God do the rest-
ASAP - ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER.
It may seem like your worries
Are more than you can bear.
Slow down and take a breather-
ASAP - ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER
God knows how stressful life is;
He wants to ease our cares,
And He'll respond to all your needs
A.S.A.P. - ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER.
God bless and have a wonderful day!
A Love Story #4
In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone.
The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared.
Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds.
He did manage to leave $15 week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either.
If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it.
I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress, loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.
The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck.
The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job.
Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop.
It was called the Big Wheel.
An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids.
She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning.
She paid 65 cents an hour, and I could start that night.
I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep.
This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.
That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers, we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel.
When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money-- fully half of what I averaged every night.
As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.
One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, and just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.
I made a deal with the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.
I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids.
I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting someold toys. Then hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning.
Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boy's pants and soon they would be too far-gone to repair.
On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel.
These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine.
The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up.
When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning, to my amazement, my old battered Chevy was filled full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes.
I quickly opened the driver's side door, crawled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box. It was full of shirts to go with the jeans.
Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes. There was candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items.
And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll.
As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude.
And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning.
Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop....
THE POWER OF PRAYER. I believe that God only gives three answers to prayer:
1. "Yes!"
2. "Not yet."
3. "I have something better in mind."
God still sits on the throne, the devil is a liar.
You may be going through a tough time right now but God is getting ready to bless you in a way that you cannot imagine.
The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared.
Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds.
He did manage to leave $15 week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either.
If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it.
I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress, loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.
The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck.
The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job.
Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop.
It was called the Big Wheel.
An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids.
She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning.
She paid 65 cents an hour, and I could start that night.
I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep.
This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.
That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers, we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel.
When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money-- fully half of what I averaged every night.
As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.
One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, and just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.
I made a deal with the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.
I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids.
I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting someold toys. Then hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning.
Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boy's pants and soon they would be too far-gone to repair.
On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel.
These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine.
The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up.
When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning, to my amazement, my old battered Chevy was filled full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes.
I quickly opened the driver's side door, crawled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box. It was full of shirts to go with the jeans.
Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes. There was candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items.
And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll.
As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude.
And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning.
Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop....
THE POWER OF PRAYER. I believe that God only gives three answers to prayer:
1. "Yes!"
2. "Not yet."
3. "I have something better in mind."
God still sits on the throne, the devil is a liar.
You may be going through a tough time right now but God is getting ready to bless you in a way that you cannot imagine.
A Love Story #3
I was born in a secluded village on a mountain. Day by day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil with their backs towards the sky.
I have a brother who is 3 years younger than me. I wanted to buy a handkerchief, which all girls around me seemed to have. So, one day I stole 50 cents from my father's drawer. Father had discovered about the stolen money right away.
He made me and my younger brother kneel against the wall as he held a bamboo stick in his hand. "Who stole the money?" he asked. I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Neither of us admitted to the fault, so he said, "Fine, if nobody wants to admit, 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 my brother's back repeatedly. Father was so angry that he kept on whipping my brother until he lost his breath.
After that, he sat down on our stone bed and scolded my brother, "You have learned to steal from your own house now. What other embarrassing things will you be possibly doing in the future? You should be beaten to death, you shameless thief!" That night, my mother and I hugged my brother. His body was full of wounds from the beating but he never shed a single tear.
In the middle of the night, all of sudden, I cried out loudly. 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 not having enough courage to admit what I did.
Years gone by, but the incident still seemed like it just happened yesterday. I will never forget my brother's expression when he protected me.
That year, my brother was 8 years old and I was 11 years old.
When my brother was in his last year of secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central. At the same time, I was accepted into a university in the province. That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking, packet by packet.
I could hear him ask my mother, "Both of our children, they 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 front of father and said,"Dad, I don't want to continue my study anymore, I have read enough books."
Father swung his hand and slapped my brother on his face. "Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you two to school until you have both finished your study!" And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money.
I stuck out my hand as gently as I can to my brother's swollen face, and told him, "A boy has to continue his study; If not, he will not be able to overcome this poverty we are experiencing."
I, on the other hand, had decided not to further my study at the university. Nobody knew that 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 my side of the bed and left a note on my pillow; "Sis, getting into a university is not easy. I will go find a job and I will 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 whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at a construction site,finally, I managed to get to the third year of my study in the university.
One day, while I was studying in my room, my roommate came in and told me,"There's a villager waiting for you outside!" Why would there be a villager looking for me? I walked out, and I saw my brother from afar. His whole body was covered with dirt, dust, cement and sand. I asked him, "Why did you not tell my roommate that you are my brother?"
He replied with a smile," Look at my appearance. What will they think if they would know that I am your brother? Won't they laugh at you?" I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dirt and dust from my brother's body. And told him with a lump in my throat, " I don't care what people would say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance is?"
From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He put it on my hair and said, "I saw all the girls in town are wearing it. So, I think you should also have one." I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried.
That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old.
I noticed that the broken window was repaired the first time I brought my boyfriend home. The house was scrubbed cleaned. After my boyfriend left, I danced like a little girl in front of my mother, "Mom, you didn't have to spend so much time cleaning the house!" But she told me with a smile, "It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Didn't you see the wound on his hand? He hurt his hand while he was replacing the window." I went into my brother's bedroom. Looking at his thin face, I felt like there are hundreds of needle pricked in my heart.
I applied some ointment on his wound and put a bandag on it, "Does it hurt? " I asked him. "No, it doesn't hurt. You know, when at the construction site, stones keep falling on my feet. Even that could not stop me from working." In the middle of the sentence, he stopped. I turned my back on him and tears rolled 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. Many times my husband invited my parents to come and live with us, but they didn't want. They said, once they left the village,they wouldn't know what to do. My brother agreed with them. He said, "Sis, you just take care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of mom and dad here."
My husband became the director of his factory. We asked my brother to accept the offer of being the manager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on working as a repairman instead for a start. 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 at the hospital. Looking at the white gypsum on his leg, I grumbled, "Why did you reject the offer of being a manager? Managers won't do something dangerous like that. Now look at you, You ar suffering a serious injury. Why didn't you just listen to us?"
With a serious expression on his face, he defended his decision, "Think of brother-in-law. He just became the director, and I being uneducated, and would become a manager, what kind of rumors would fly around?"
My husband's eyes filled up with tears, and then I said, "But you lack in education only because of me!" "Why do you talk about the past?" he said and then he 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 farmer girl from the village. During the wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, "Who is the one person you respect and love the most?" Without even taking a time to think, he answered," My sister." He continued by telling a story I could not even remember.
"When I was in primary school, the school was in a different village. Everyday, my sister and I would walk for 2 hours to school and back home. One day, I lost the other pair of my gloves. My sister gave me one of hers. She wore only one glove and she had to walk far. When we got home, her hands were trembling because of the cold weather that she could not even hold her chopsticks. >From that day on, I swore that as long as I live, I would take care of my sister and will always be good to her."
Applause filled up the room. All guests turned their attention to me. I found it hard to speak, "In my whole life, the one I would like to thank most is my brother," And in this happy occasion,in front of the crowd, tears were rolling down my face again.
Love and care for the one you love every single days of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot. Have a nice day everyone! May this story inspire you in any way!
I have a brother who is 3 years younger than me. I wanted to buy a handkerchief, which all girls around me seemed to have. So, one day I stole 50 cents from my father's drawer. Father had discovered about the stolen money right away.
He made me and my younger brother kneel against the wall as he held a bamboo stick in his hand. "Who stole the money?" he asked. I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Neither of us admitted to the fault, so he said, "Fine, if nobody wants to admit, 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 my brother's back repeatedly. Father was so angry that he kept on whipping my brother until he lost his breath.
After that, he sat down on our stone bed and scolded my brother, "You have learned to steal from your own house now. What other embarrassing things will you be possibly doing in the future? You should be beaten to death, you shameless thief!" That night, my mother and I hugged my brother. His body was full of wounds from the beating but he never shed a single tear.
In the middle of the night, all of sudden, I cried out loudly. 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 not having enough courage to admit what I did.
Years gone by, but the incident still seemed like it just happened yesterday. I will never forget my brother's expression when he protected me.
That year, my brother was 8 years old and I was 11 years old.
When my brother was in his last year of secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central. At the same time, I was accepted into a university in the province. That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking, packet by packet.
I could hear him ask my mother, "Both of our children, they 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 front of father and said,"Dad, I don't want to continue my study anymore, I have read enough books."
Father swung his hand and slapped my brother on his face. "Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you two to school until you have both finished your study!" And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money.
I stuck out my hand as gently as I can to my brother's swollen face, and told him, "A boy has to continue his study; If not, he will not be able to overcome this poverty we are experiencing."
I, on the other hand, had decided not to further my study at the university. Nobody knew that 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 my side of the bed and left a note on my pillow; "Sis, getting into a university is not easy. I will go find a job and I will 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 whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at a construction site,finally, I managed to get to the third year of my study in the university.
One day, while I was studying in my room, my roommate came in and told me,"There's a villager waiting for you outside!" Why would there be a villager looking for me? I walked out, and I saw my brother from afar. His whole body was covered with dirt, dust, cement and sand. I asked him, "Why did you not tell my roommate that you are my brother?"
He replied with a smile," Look at my appearance. What will they think if they would know that I am your brother? Won't they laugh at you?" I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dirt and dust from my brother's body. And told him with a lump in my throat, " I don't care what people would say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance is?"
From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He put it on my hair and said, "I saw all the girls in town are wearing it. So, I think you should also have one." I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried.
That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old.
I noticed that the broken window was repaired the first time I brought my boyfriend home. The house was scrubbed cleaned. After my boyfriend left, I danced like a little girl in front of my mother, "Mom, you didn't have to spend so much time cleaning the house!" But she told me with a smile, "It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Didn't you see the wound on his hand? He hurt his hand while he was replacing the window." I went into my brother's bedroom. Looking at his thin face, I felt like there are hundreds of needle pricked in my heart.
I applied some ointment on his wound and put a bandag on it, "Does it hurt? " I asked him. "No, it doesn't hurt. You know, when at the construction site, stones keep falling on my feet. Even that could not stop me from working." In the middle of the sentence, he stopped. I turned my back on him and tears rolled 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. Many times my husband invited my parents to come and live with us, but they didn't want. They said, once they left the village,they wouldn't know what to do. My brother agreed with them. He said, "Sis, you just take care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of mom and dad here."
My husband became the director of his factory. We asked my brother to accept the offer of being the manager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on working as a repairman instead for a start. 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 at the hospital. Looking at the white gypsum on his leg, I grumbled, "Why did you reject the offer of being a manager? Managers won't do something dangerous like that. Now look at you, You ar suffering a serious injury. Why didn't you just listen to us?"
With a serious expression on his face, he defended his decision, "Think of brother-in-law. He just became the director, and I being uneducated, and would become a manager, what kind of rumors would fly around?"
My husband's eyes filled up with tears, and then I said, "But you lack in education only because of me!" "Why do you talk about the past?" he said and then he 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 farmer girl from the village. During the wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, "Who is the one person you respect and love the most?" Without even taking a time to think, he answered," My sister." He continued by telling a story I could not even remember.
"When I was in primary school, the school was in a different village. Everyday, my sister and I would walk for 2 hours to school and back home. One day, I lost the other pair of my gloves. My sister gave me one of hers. She wore only one glove and she had to walk far. When we got home, her hands were trembling because of the cold weather that she could not even hold her chopsticks. >From that day on, I swore that as long as I live, I would take care of my sister and will always be good to her."
Applause filled up the room. All guests turned their attention to me. I found it hard to speak, "In my whole life, the one I would like to thank most is my brother," And in this happy occasion,in front of the crowd, tears were rolling down my face again.
Love and care for the one you love every single days of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot. Have a nice day everyone! May this story inspire you in any way!
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