A nice article to read. Nestled in the comforting embrace of my sister, I would nervously bite my lips and await the doorbell to ring; that ring of the doorbell after the sun had set symbolised the return of my mother from a long, hard day of work. It was the high point of my day. Every day, I would wake up to the sound of the sparrows chirping, but soon I would be rushed into a frenzy because my mother was in a hurry to leave for work. With each strand of my hair braided neatly and my stomach filled with a wholesome breakfast, I would morosely wave my mother good-bye for school, my heart heavy at the thought that I wouldn’t see her till nightfall. From the time I returned home till the time my mom would come back from work, I would anxiously wait to see her. While my eyes would be fixed on the pages of my textbook, my mind would entertain the monotonous yet subtle sound of the clock. My sister would choose to amuse herself with television programs while children of the neighbourhood would jovially utilise their energy in the exciting game of cricket. I, however, would wish the sun would hurry up and set; I would do this so that I could welcome the night, a time when there would finally be a knock on the door, and my mother, once again, would take me into a heart-felt embrace. The sight of my mother would soothe my heart and I would sleep like a child without worries. Yes, having two working parents is hard. Children feel vulnerable and ignored, but I am so very grateful to my parents for making these innumerable sacrifices for me and my siblings. You see, life had dealt us a blow. After giving birth to me, my mother gave up her job as a doctor for a long time. She suppressed her passion as a medical practitioner just so that she wouldn’t lose sight of me; she ensured that my requirements as an infant were fully met. However, hard times hit and our family was plunged into a pit of financial constraints. Like our guardian angle, my mother went back to work and extended her working hours to a point of physical exhaustion. Yes, I missed the fact that my mother was not always available; I missed her jovial presence around the house immensely. However, it is due to her constant struggle that I was able to complete my education with ease and fulfil all my childish wants and luxuries. Had it not been for my parents’ unwavering commitment, I would’ve been left craving a life every child desires - of going to the best schools and possessing every stuffed toy and glittering Barbie that would grace the toy store counters. Working parents are equivalent to a library that is filled with books that provides us with inspiration and morals. My mother’s robustness to successfully swim across the ocean of hurdles that life had engulfed her in restores in me the belief of how strong a woman can be and how resilient a parent must be in the face of adversity. As for my father, he has proven to be a kind sanctuary for me – a beautiful tree that conceals me from the scorching heat of the sun and the tumultuous thunderstorms during rain. Perhaps this is why we have designated the day of September 16, as a “Working Parents’ Day” to stop, and think for once about what we would be without the pain and sweat of our parents and to acknowledge the sacrifices they have make so that we could sleep comfortably at night. So let us bring our materialistic lives to a halt for just a second, so that we can applaud our parents for the strength and resilience they have shown us. I hope, one day, I can be as strong as my parents and support my children the same way they supported me and my siblings. Happy Working Parents’ Day to all the great parents out there; you are an inspiration to us all!
Posted on: Sun, 15 Sep 2013 07:42:47 +0000