FA

Perhaps you believe, this is just a fictional story. Call it, the Fa, a ten-year-old boy, a third grade elementary school. Life for him is a struggle. Truly a struggle. You might be able to go to the best school, or go to the best campus. Given facilities and likes to complain. Feel always for what you have. It's given to you. It was never enough. But, for the Fa, he put away all his comfortable time. He wasted his playing time. Do you know? Fa, that ten-year-old boy. Get up at six in the morning, go to seventh grade. Half-day school. Then sell after school. Fa sells until 6 pm. The journey is spent up to the house an hour over. Get home he has to do homework. When I asked, what time did he sleep? He answered innocently. Above 12 o'clock. At that moment I realized one thing: I was too lucky, or I was not grateful. Living for the Fa, not an easy path. But he always struggles. Meanwhile, many conveniences I received and I let my time wasted. Every question I asked the Fa, whenever I felt the weight on the edge of my eyes. He was even able to hide his load, looking as though there was no problem. Today, I learned a lot from him. An hour of conversation taught me the meaning of life. Learning to hold back something that snapped and culminated in my eyes. Up early. School until noon. Selling - traveling far. Doing homework. Fa, burning his playing time in every burden he carries. At the age of ten, he already taught me: so the human child must be willing to work hard. - boycandra