Father had three of us,my two older brothers and I.
And with out fail,every eve we rushed off to meet father in the fields. He had always been a hardworking man,toiling from daybreak to sun set for the small family he raised on his on. A brilliant man of good character;a man I some day hoped to become.
Father would kiss our heads each,put me around his neck and hold the hands of my two older brothers. Some of my fondest memories came from the afternoons we walked home with father.
He'd tell us about the day's hard work and often say ''remember boys,a lazy man is never prosperous'' and i'd listen cautiously,heeding every word.
In time,like the seasons we all began changing;aging and growing older. Father no longer strong enough to complete strenuous tasks but by no means did he not try. And we, his sons,had sprouted into young men,bursting at the seams with muscle and energy.
Father would accompany us out into the pastures as often as he could,which considering his dwindling health,was not often. Whenever he accompanied,work would have been completed efficiently but when his presence was absent,very little was done.
I would constantly butt heads with my brothers,seeing their labor for the day as insufficient and a shame. Something was always left to be done ''tomorrow'' and when tomorrow came it was left for the day following.
And whenever father inquired about how the fields were looking,they'd stare at each other and then back at father,only to open their mouths and feed him a lie.
'' The crop is bountiful father,even more so than in your day,''.
With each lie,i let my eyes meet fathers',looking for any sign that showed he knew what was actually true,but none ever came. His eyes only shone with pride,pride for his hardworking sons that could have done no wrong.
''So we will have a surplus of crop this year?'' father asked and we were left to grin in agreement.
But,when the end of the year rolled by,we had barely enough to get by,though father was never made aware. What ever they dished out onto my plate, i made sure to feed father. Going without a proper meal for days at a time.
Eventually,our finances began to diminish,and father fell sick.
Slothful nature had taken away possessions needed to get by,and then it took away father.
For I was unable to pay for his treatment by my own accord,and begged my elder brothers for assistance,but they could give none. As they squandered the money and remained too lazy to ever make it back.
So when the new year rolled in,father rolled out and left us to boil in the guilt we brought upon ourselves.
