/ world today news/ To all my questions, my mother always answered like this – “Because we are poor.”.
I asked about so many things and always, according to her, the reason was: “Because we are poor”.
Once I couldn’t stand it and asked: “Mom, why are we poor?”.
Mother had not expected such a question and was confused.
Dad intervened and replied: “We are poor because we are honest!”.
Mom said something I didn’t understand, but it must have been a total disagreement, because the fight broke out again.
That’s how we lived then – my questions became more and more, and my mother’s answer was always the same – “Because we are poor”.
But I did not forget my father’s answer – we are poor because we are honest.
And I began to ask my father, and he always answered me, although he was terribly tired after the many hours on the roads – he was a driver.
The wonderful time came when Dad brought him in an ambulance with a broken leg, and then all day long I asked him the questions I was looking for an answer to, and Dad answered.
But the good weather ended after a few months and Dad went back to work.
I felt mom’s anxiety. She used to sit on the terrace and cry, but now she was there more than before.
One day mom came to school and picked me up before classes were over. Astonished, I went with her, and she cried silently again.
When we got back to the apartment she told me through tears:
– Your father is dead, my boy. They will bring the coffin and we will bury him.
I cried too.
And so we cried until mom’s phone rang.
After a few minutes, two men brought in a coffin, and in it – dad!
Then Mom spoke on the phone with some cemetery officials.
I will never forget the last evening when we were together again – mom, dad and I.
– Mom, and dad, why did you leave us? I asked.
– Because he was honest and didn’t agree to what they wanted from him…- whispered mom, as if she was afraid that someone would hear and scold her.
Then over the years I learned all about Dad’s terrible end, but I never forgot that when I went to visit my dying mother, she smiled and pointed out some notes.
I looked at them – they were invoices for paid heating, electricity and water.
– I paid everything and I didn’t have any money left for the medicine. I didn’t want to bother you and ask you for money.
I was about to scold her, but I heard her say:
– Your father was right! We poor people die because of our honesty, not because of our poverty!..
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