I was born in a secluded village on a mountain. Day by day, my parents ploughed 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, that all girls around me seemed to have. So, one day I stole 50 cents from my father's drawer. Father found out about the missing 50 cents shortly and came running out of his room.
He made my brother and I 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 shall be beaten!'
My father lifted the bamboo stick. As he was going to lower his arms, my brother gripped them and said, "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 are possibly do 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.
I burst into tears in the middle of the night suddenly. My brother covered my mouth and said "Sis, please don cry, everything's over already. What was done cannot be undone."
I still hate myself for not having enough courage to admit for my mistake. Years went by , but the incident seemed like it just happened yesterday.
I can never forget the look on my brother's face when he tried to protect 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, stick by stick. I could hear him asking 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 moment, my brother walked out , stood in front of father and said, 'Dad, I don't want to continue my studies anymore, I have read enough books.'
Upon hearing that, my father swung his hand and slapped my brother real hard, 'Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if it means to beg for money on the streets, I will ,by all means, send the both of you to school until you have both finished your studies!'
With that, father 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 would have expected that my brother would leave the house right before dawn the next day with a few worn-out clothes and a few dry-beans. A note was found beside my pillow, "Sis, it is not easy getting into university. I will find a job and help finance your school fee. Please do not worry about me."
I held the note tightly, buried it in my chest and tried till I lost my voice. That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old.
With the money father borrowed from the villagers, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at a construction site, I finally managed to get to the third year in the university.
One day, while I was studying in my dorm room, my roommate came in and told me, 'There's a villager waiting for you outside!'
I was confused, I mean why would a villager be looking for me. When I walked out of my room, I saw my brother from a far. His whole body was covered with dirt, dust, cement and sand. I was happy when I saw him, but I had to ask, "Why didn't you tell my roommate that you're my brother?
He replied with a smile,' Look at me ... what would they think if they would knew that I am your brother? They would laugh at you !'
I felt several emotions surfacing in my mind-sadness, anger, annoyance-, 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 think or say! You are my brother no matter how you look like.'
He took out a butterfly hair clip from his pocket. He put it on my hair and said, 'I saw all the girls in town wearing it. So, I thought you should also have one too.'
After hearing that, I couldn't hold back anymore. I wrapped by arms around my brothers neck and hugged him tightly while crying. 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 don'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 hundreds of needles pricking in my heart. I applied some ointment on his wound and put a bandage 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.' I turn my back against him when he was in the middle of the sentence, crying silently. That year, my brother was 23 years old; I was 26 years old.
After I got married, I lived in the city. My husband had tried to invite my parents over to live with us countless times, but they declined the offer. They said that they wouldn't know what to do if they leave the village. 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.'
When my husband was promoted as the director of a factory, we offered my brother to become a manager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer and insisted on working as a repairman.
One day, my brother was on the top of a ladder repairing a cable, he got electrocuted, and was sent to the hospital. My husband and I visited him at the hospital. Looking at the plaster cast on his leg, I grumbled, 'Why did you reject the offer of being a manager? A Manager wouldn't have to do something so dangerous. Now look at you - you are suffering. Why wouldn'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 a person uneducated like me suddenly become a manager? Rumours would spread.'
My husband's eyes were 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's daughter 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 second 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. Every day, 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 all my life, the one I would like to thank most is my brother, ' And on that happy occasion, in front of the crowd, I was crying tears of joy and sadness. Because I was touched yet heart aching to recall the things he had done for me in return when I had only done such a simple and minor thing for him.
