I cried for my brother six times

Diposting oleh Soul Arifin pada 15:09, 26-Peb-16  •  Komentar (0)

I was born in a very remote mountainous village. Day by day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil with their backs facing the sky. I have a sister, three years younger than me.
Once, to buy a handkerchief which all the girls around me seemed to take him, I stole fifty cents from the drawer of my father. Dad immediately aware of it. He made ​​my sister and me to kneel in front of the wall, with a bamboo stick in his hand.
"Who stole the money?" He asked. I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Dad did not hear anyone confess, so he said, "Well, then, you two should be beaten!"
He lifted the bamboo stick high.
Suddenly, my brother grabbed her arm and said, "Dad, I did it!"

Long stick it hit the back of my brother barrage. Father was so angry that he kept on whipping until he lost his breath. Afterward, he sat down on the bed of our bricks and scolded, "You have learned to steal from home, 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 sister in our arms. His body was covered with wounds, but he did not shed a tear drop. In the middle of the night, I suddenly started wailing.

My brother covered my mouth with his hand and said, "Sister, do not cry anymore. Everything has happened."
I still hate myself for not having the courage to come forward. Many years have passed, but the incident is still fresh in my memory. I will never forget the look of my brother when he was protecting me. At that time, my brother was 8 years old. I was 11.

When my sister was in his last year in junior high school, he graduated to go to high school in the district center. At the same time, I was accepted into a provincial university. That night, father squatted on the lawn, tobacco smoking cigarettes, wrappers for the sake of wrap. I could hear him, "Both our children have good results ... the results were so good ..." Mother wiped off her tears and sighed, "What's the point? How can we possibly finance both of them?"

At that time, my brother walked up to my father and said, "Dad, I do not want to go to school anymore, I have read enough books." Father swung his arm and hit my brother in the face. "Why do you have a soul that is so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg in the streets, I will send you both to finish!" And then, he knocked 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 said, "A boy has to continue his studies; otherwise he will never leave this poverty." I, on the contrary, has decided to no longer continue to university.

Who would have thought the next morning, before dawn, my brother left the house with some ragged clothes and a bit of dry beans. He slipped into the side of my bed and left a note on my pillow; "Sis, getting into college is not easy. I will go find a job and send money."
I held the note on my bed, and cried with tears rolling down until I lost my voice. That year, my brother was 17 years old. I'm 20.

With the money father borrowed from the whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement in construction sites, I finally got to the third year (at the university).

One day, I was studying in my room, when my roommate came in and reported, "There is an inhabitant of the village waiting for you out there!"

Why is there an inhabitant of the village looking for me? I walked out and saw my brother from a distance, his body is dirty, covered in cement and sand. I asked him, "Why do not you tell your friends
Your roommate is my brother? "He replied, smiling," Look at my appearance. What would they think if they knew I was your brother? What they will not laugh? "

I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I wiped the dust from my brother, and choked on my words, "I do not care what people say! You are my brother no matter what! You are my brother no matter what you look like ..."

From his pocket, he took out a hairpin-shaped butterfly. He put it to me, and went on to explain, "I saw all the city girl to wear them. So I think you also have to have one."
I could not hold back any longer. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried and cried. That year, he was 20. I'm 23.

The first time I brought my boyfriend to the house, broken windows have been replaced, and look clean everywhere. After my boyfriend left, I danced like a little girl in front of my mother. "Mom, you do not have to spend so much time cleaning the house!" But he said, with a smile, "It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Do not you see the wound on his hand? He was injured when installing the new window glass .."

I went into the small room my sister. Seeing his thin face, a hundred needle felt stabbed. I put some ointment on the wound and the wound mebalut. "Does it hurt?" I asked.
"No, it does not hurt. You know, when I was working on the construction site, stones falling on my feet all the time. Even that did not stop me from working and ..." In the middle of the sentence, he stopped.
I turned my back, and tears streamed down my face. That year, my brother was 23. I was 26.

When I got married, I lived in the city. Many times, my husband and I invited my parents to come and live with us, but they did not want. They say, once they left the village, they would not know what to do. My brother does not agree as well, saying, "Sister, keep-in-law wrote. I'll take care of mom and dad here."

My husband became the director of the factory. We want my brother to get a job as a manager in the maintenance department. But my sister refused the offer. He insisted on starting work as reparations.

One day, my brother was on a ladder repairing a cable, when he got an electric shock and was hospitalized. My husband and I went to visit him. Seeing a white cast on his leg, I grumbled, "Why do you refuse to become a manager?

The manager will never have to do something dangerous like this. Look at you now, such a serious injury. Why did not you listen to us? "

With a serious expression on his face, he defended his decision.
"Think of brother-in-law - he just became a director, and I barely educated. If I were the manager, what kind of news will be delivered?"
My husband's eyes filled with tears, and then exit my words are word-word: "But lack of education was because of me!"
"Why talk about the past?" My sister took my hand. That year, he was 26 and I 29.

My sister then aged 30 when he married a peasant girl from the village. In the wedding ceremony, master of ceremonies asked him, "Who do you most respect and love?" Without thinking, he replied, "My sister."

He went on to recount a story that I could not even remember. "When I went to elementary school, he was in a different village. Every day my brother and I walked for two hours to go to school and return home. One day, I lost one of my gloves. My sister gave one of his. He just wear one and walk far.

When we arrived home, her hand was the weather was so cold that she could not hold her chopsticks. Since that day, I vowed, as long as I am alive, I will keep my sister and good to him. "

Applause filled up the room. All the guests turned his attention to me. The words are so hard to come out of my lips, "In my life, the person I'm most grateful for is my brother." And the happiest occasions of this, in front of a crowd this celebration, tears rolling down on my face like a river.