Monday, 23 August 2010

My Home Sweet Home

“People think I am strong, yet I am the weakest. They thought I am smart, yet I am the dumbest. I straggle my life in the weakest and dumbest way I can for it is my best showing the people how human I am inside out.”
I was walking in the sandy banks of Matanao River trying to cover the heat of the sun shining above my head with a farmer’s hat my father gave me before he went to Marilog fifteen years ago. The sun shone brightly and the sand was hot under my feet. I watch the children playing while swimming in the clear water of the river. I never have enjoyed my childhood like this children and I missed my younger days. I feel a bit jealous with the ladies of my neighborhood because they have lots of fun enjoying their youth. They go out with friends to disco or barrio dances during fiestas wearing costumes they like while I am in my father’s farm working. My family is conservative and poor as I thought, not because we only have a little land for our crops and few goats, chickens and other farm animals we raised for a living but maybe because I don’t understand fully the value of money that time. My mother won’t allow me to go out after school and during weekends. I have to help my father in the farm while my two sisters stayed with my mother in the house doing choirs and preparing our food every meal. They also would have to help her sewing clothes that would add up to our income to meet the family’s needs. Though we are not rich I was glad enough that my parent sends us to school in the public educational center nearby so every free time I have, I have to snatch back to check on my goats whether they’re expose to too much sun and to give them water to drink as well. This is my day to day life.

Farm work is not for girls but I have no choice. We are three girls in the family and I was the youngest. My mother has difficulty during pregnancy and that makes me the last. I have no regrets after all, my parents were happy to have us. I was enjoying my thought when a man came along and called my name behind my back. It sounds both familiar and unfamiliar. I left this place for more than Eight years that makes me became unfamiliar of so many things and people in this place. Then I turned to face that jolly voice and saw that it was my cousin. This man named Glenn was my childhood friend and buddy. He was the eldest of the three children of my uncle, my mom’s eldest brother. He has a job in an oil refinery plant in Davao City, an hour travel from Barayong, got married and settled in the city with his family. He had children on his own and very seldom would come here to visit old folks. We talk for a while, exchanging stories of our present journey, and he left. How soon it was and I can see the white hairs puffing out from dark black head of this fine man of about two years younger than me. How years have changed everything even the place I called home has changed so much. New people and settlers came adding to the number of population this place had and making it a little crowded than it was before ten years ago. My childhood days were gone and so most of my memories but I am still standing the same place but with a new phase of my life to face with.
The morals of these:
“A young person never knows how short life is, not until they grow old.”
People forgot that life is too short and making it shorter while sinning. God give us choices. To live a life of contentment with Allah(swt) in our hearts, or live a life in this world but gained the hatred of God because of disobedience to His commandments. The choice is ours. But if God is with you, who can be against you?


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