To Cry Little Sister

I was born in a very remote mountain village.

Day after day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil,

and 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 it,

I stole fifty cents from my father's drawer. Father immediately noticed.

He made my brother and I knelt in front of the wall,

with a bamboo stick in his hand.

"Who stole the money?" He asked.

I was stunned, too afraid to speak.

My father did not hear anyone claiming,

so he said, "Well then, you two should be beaten!"

He lifted up the bamboo stick in the air.

Suddenly, my sister grabbed his hand and said,

"Dad, I did it!"

A long stick that hit my brother's back repeatedly.

My father was so angry that he kept whipped until he lost his breath.

Afterward, he sat on the bed brick and scold us,

"You have learned to steal from the house now,

What other embarrassing things will you do in the future?

You should be beaten to death! You shameless thief! "

That night, I hugged her mother and 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 to bawl.

My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said,

"Sister, do not cry anymore. Everything has happened."

I still hate myself for not having enough courage to admit.

Many years have passed, but the incident still seems like yesterday.

I will never forget the look of my sister when she was protecting me.

At that time, my brother was 8 years old. I was 11.

When my brother was in his final year in junior high,

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 in the yard, smoking, packet by packet.

I could hear him,

"Both our children have very good results ... the results are so good ..."

Mother wiped her tears and sighs that flow,

"What's the point? How can we possibly finance both of them?"

At that time, my brother walked out before the father and said,

"Dad, I do not want to go back to school again, I have read enough books."

My father waved his hand and hit my sister on her face.

"Why do you have a soul 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 on every house in the village to borrow money.

I stuck out my hand as gently as I could come forward to swell my brother, and said, "A boy has to continue school, 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 home

With a few pieces of clothing worn and slightly dry beans.

He slipped to the side of my bed and left a piece of paper on my pillow:

"Sister, get into college is not easy. I'll go find a job and send money."

I held the note on my bed,

and cried with tears streaming down until I lost my voice.

That year, 17-year-old brother. I'm 20.

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, I finally get to the third year (in college).

One day, I was studying in my room, when my roommate came in and told, "There's a villager waiting for you out there!"

Why is there a villager looking for me?

I walked outside and saw my brother from afar, the whole body is dirty, covered with cement dust and sand.

I asked him,

"Why did you not tell my roommate that you are 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 swept the dust from my brother everything, and sealed-bulkhead in my words,

"I do not care what people say! You are my brother anything! You are my brother no matter how you look ..."

From his pocket, he pulled out a hairpin-shaped butterfly. He put it to me, and went on to explain,

"I saw all the city girls wear them. So I think you also have to have one."

I can not resist 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 took my boyfriend to the house, broken windows have been replaced, and look clean everywhere.

After my boyfriend came home, I'm dancing like a little girl in front of my mother.

"Mom, you do not have to spend so much time to clean our house!"

But he said, smiling,

"It was your brother who came home early to clean the house.

Do you not see the wound on his hand?

He was injured while installing the new windows .. "

I walked into the small room of my brother.

Looking at his thin face, stabbed me feel a hundred needles.

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 worked at a construction site, stones falling on my feet all the time. Even that does not stop working and ..."

Amid the sentence, he stopped.

I turned my back,

and the tears streamed down my face.

That year, my brother was 23. I was 26.

When I married, I lived in the city.

Many times my husband and I invited my parents to come and live with us, but they never wanted.

They say, once left the village, they will not know what to do.

My brother disagreed too, saying,

"Sis, keep-in-law aja.Saya will keep mom and dad here."

My husband became the director of the factory.

We wanted my brother to get a job as a manager in the maintenance department.

But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on starting working as a repairman.

One day, my brother was on a ladder repairing a cable, when he got electrocuted, and hospital admission. My husband and I visited him.

Seeing a white cast on his leg, I grumbled,

"Why do you refuse to be a manager?

Manager will never have to do something dangerous like this.

Look at you now, such a serious injury.

Why do not you listen to us? "

With a serious look on his face, he defended his decision.

"Think of brother-in-law - he just became the director, and I almost uneducated.

If I became a manager like that, what kind of news will be delivered? "

My husband's eyes filled with tears, and then exit the single words-word: "But you lack in education as well as me!"

"Why talk about the past?" My brother took my hand.

That year, he was 26 and I 29.

Then my sister was 30 when he married a peasant girl from the village. In the marriage ceremony, the master of ceremonies asked him,

"Who do you most respect and love?"

Without thinking, he replied, "My sister."

He continued by telling a story that could not even remember.

"When I went to elementary school, which is at a different village.

Every day my brother and I walked for two hours to go to school and back home.

One day, I lost one of my glove.

My sister gave one of hers. He was only wearing one and walk so far.

When we got home, his hand was shaking because the weather was so cold that she could not hold his chopsticks.

Since that day, I swear, as long as I am alive, I'll keep my sister and good to him. "

Applause filled up the room.

All guests turned their attention to me.

The words are so hard I spoke out my lips,

"In my life, most people I thank are my brother."

And in this happiest occasion, in front of this kerumunanperayaan, tears streaming down my face like a river of.