Tears to my brother

I was born in a mountain village so remote. Day after day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil, and their backs facing the sky. I have a brother, three years younger than me. Who loves me more than I love him.

Once upon a time, to buy a handkerchief which all the girls around me seemed to take him, I stole fifty cents from my father's drawer. Father immediately noticed. He made my sister 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. Dad did not hear anyone claim, so he said, "Well, then, you both deserve beaten!"

He raised the bamboo stick high-Cleaner. Suddenly, my brother grabbed his hand and said, "Dad, I did it!"

Long stick hit my brother's back repeatedly. Father was so angry that he was continually whipped until he was out of breath. Afterward, he sat on the bed of our brick and scolded, "You've learned to steal from the house now, what embarrassing thing you would do in the future? You deserve beaten to death! You shameless thief!"

That night, I hugged my mother and my sister in our arms. His body was covered with wounds, but he did not shed a tear too. At mid-night, I arrived ¬ arrived began to bawl. My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said, "Sister, do not cry about it now. It's all happening."

I still always hate myself for not having enough courage to go confess. Many years have passed, but the incident still seemed like yesterday. I will never forget the look of my brother when he protected me. At that time, my brother was 8 years old. I was 11 years old.

When my brother was in his final year in junior high school, he graduated to go to high school in the district center. At the same time, I was accepted to go to a provincial university. That night, father squatted in the courtyard, smoking tobacco, pack for pack. I heard him mutter, "The children we give such good results, so good results" Mother wiped the flowing tears and sighs, "What's the point? How can we possibly finance both at once?"

In that instant, my brother walked out to the front of my father and said, "Dad, I do not want to go back to school again, have enough to read many books."

Father swung his hand and hit my brother on his face. "Why do you have a soul that was so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg on the streets I'll send you both to finish!"

And so then he knocked on every house in the village to borrow money. I stuck out my hand as gently as I could into my brother's swollen face, and said, "A son should continue his schooling. If not he will never leave this poverty." I, on the other hand, has decided to no longer go to university.

Who would have thought the next day, before dawn came, my brother left home with a few items of clothing worn and slightly dried beans. He slipped into my bed and left a piece of paper on my pillow: "Sister, go to university is not easy. I'll go look for work and send you money."

I held the paper above my bed, and cried with tears rolling down until my voice is lost. 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 the construction site, I finally reached the third year. One day, I was studying in my room, when my roommate came in and told, "There's a village resident waiting for you outside!"

Why is there a village resident looking for? I walked out, and saw my brother from afar, the whole body covered with cement dust dirt and sand. I asked, "Why did you not tell your roommate you is my brother?"

She replied, smiling, "See how I look. What will they think if they knew I was your sister? What they will not laugh at you?"

I felt touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept the dust from my brother everything, and catch-screens in my words, "I care not talk to anyone! You are my brother about anything! You are my brother no matter how you look ..."

From his pocket, he pulled out a hair clip butterfly. He put it to me, and went on to explain, "I saw all the city girls wear. So I think you also have to have one. "I could 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, the broken window has been replaced, and looks clean everywhere. After my boyfriend came home, I danced like a little girl in front of my mother."Mom, mom does not need to spend so much time to clean our house!" But he said, smiling, "That was your sister who came home early to clean house. Do not you see the wound on his hand? He was injured when installing new windows."

I went into the small room my sister. Looking at the thin face, a hundred needles were jabbing me. I put a little saleb the wound and bandaged his wound. "Does it hurt?" I asked.

"No, not sick. You know, when I worked at the construction site, the stones fell on my feet all the time. Even that did not stop working and." Amid the sentence he stopped. I turned my back to him, and tears flowed freely down my face. That year, my brother 23. I was 26.

When I married, I lived in the city. Many times my husband and I invited my parents to come and stay with us, but they never wanted. They say, once left the village, they will not know what to do. My brother did not agree, too, saying, "Sister, take care of just-in-law. I will keep mom and dad here."

My husband became the director of the manufacturer. We wanted my brother to get a job as a manager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted began working as a repairman.

One day, my brother on top of a ladder to fix a cable, when he received an electric shock, and the hospital. My husband and I went to visit her. Seeing the white gypsum on his leg, I grumbled, "Why do you refuse to be a manager? Manager will never have to do something dangerous like this. Look you now, so serious injuries. Why do not you want to hear us before?"

With a serious look on his face, he defended his decision. "Think of brother-in-law - he had just become director, and I almost did not uneducated. If I become a manager like that, like what the news will be delivered?"

My husband's eyes filled with tears, and then get out my words of a single-word:

"But you lack the education because I am!"

"Why talk about the past?" My brother held my hand. That year, he was 26 and I 29.

My sister then aged 30 when he married a peasant girl from the village. In the wedding ceremony, festival show host asked him, "Who are you most respect and love?" Without even thinking he replied, "My brother."

He continued by recounting a story that can not even remember. "When I left elementary school, she was at a different village. Every day my sister and I walked for two hours to go to school and come home. One day, I lost one of my gloves. My sister gave one of hers. He justwear one and walk so far. When we got home, his hand was shaking because the weather was so cold that he could not hold his chopsticks. Since that day, I swear, as long as I am still alive, I will keep my sister and good to her. "

The applause that flooded the room. All the guests turned her attention to me.

The words I spoke out so hard my lips, "In my life, people who I thank most is my brother." And in a most happy occasion of this, in front of the crowd this celebration, tears streaming down my face like a river. (From "I cried for my brother six times-swaramer).