I have a question, by the way, have you ever dreamed that you, your parents and your siblings praying together in the church, attending Holy Mass, listening sermons and meditating, and praying a family rosary in front of the altar in your home? Or, have you done it and it has become a monotonous to you and to your family.
It was my dream that one day we (my parents and my siblings) will pray together, attend Holy Mass. i remember my early childhood where all memories are blurred by the time. It was in the 1990s, I was a little boy. On Sunday mornings around 7:30, my father, mother and I we start marching toward the Catholic Church. The city we live is called Phruso, a small town with few inhabitants more or less 2,000. I normally place myself between my parents, holding their hands and marching, trying to equal my pace with them walking. I listened to their discussion then looking up their faces. Oh i forgot to mention, i am not the only son, i have a younger sister who, at that time was with my grandparents, then i alone remained with my parents. Arriving at the church I used to go move around in the church, leaving my father's pew and moving toward the pew where my mother sits. Since my father and my mother they sit differently because in Myanmar most of the churches have differently placed pews for men and women. Men usually sit at the left and women are placed at the right side of the church. So this was my chance to move around in the church while the service is going-on.
This memory, though decades have passed, yet still remains clear in my head. These moments of going to the church in Phruso did not happen for so long. There are various reasons pushing things from bad to worse. It was a time Myanmar is ruled by Military Junta, whose mercy is dried, guns are always ready to open fire at any citizens, without distinction of men or women, young or old, black or white. Yes, they were very ruthless. Because of their stay in power, Myanmar is sanctioned from trade with other countries. So then, the citizens suffer so much, our tiny family was one of the many who suffer difficult situations. In those difficult moments, I still remember we had to eat corn which is intended only for farm animals since we had no money to buy rice for our daily sustenance.
Carrying these burdens, my parents have nothing else to continue to bear. The salary as teachers of Government public school cannot grant us, though our family is composed of only three persons, enough food, dress, and housing. My parents, looking at my face and smiled yet in their hearts they are not really happy nor have courage to smile. They were afraid of tomorrow. On the other side, they too have to be afraid of Government forces who are roaming around the city, who would shoot any innocent peoples then later tell the relatives to come to pick up the corpse. So it was a kind of hell experience. No safety for the citizen, no enough salary, no enough food, no enough shelter.
Life is as hard as it is. Then there was a time that my grandpa was seriously ill and my mom had to go to see her if she wants him to see his final days, according to a telegraph short message. She went back to her home town which is 500 km far from our place, together with my two younger brothers.
to be continued...
It was my dream that one day we (my parents and my siblings) will pray together, attend Holy Mass. i remember my early childhood where all memories are blurred by the time. It was in the 1990s, I was a little boy. On Sunday mornings around 7:30, my father, mother and I we start marching toward the Catholic Church. The city we live is called Phruso, a small town with few inhabitants more or less 2,000. I normally place myself between my parents, holding their hands and marching, trying to equal my pace with them walking. I listened to their discussion then looking up their faces. Oh i forgot to mention, i am not the only son, i have a younger sister who, at that time was with my grandparents, then i alone remained with my parents. Arriving at the church I used to go move around in the church, leaving my father's pew and moving toward the pew where my mother sits. Since my father and my mother they sit differently because in Myanmar most of the churches have differently placed pews for men and women. Men usually sit at the left and women are placed at the right side of the church. So this was my chance to move around in the church while the service is going-on.
This memory, though decades have passed, yet still remains clear in my head. These moments of going to the church in Phruso did not happen for so long. There are various reasons pushing things from bad to worse. It was a time Myanmar is ruled by Military Junta, whose mercy is dried, guns are always ready to open fire at any citizens, without distinction of men or women, young or old, black or white. Yes, they were very ruthless. Because of their stay in power, Myanmar is sanctioned from trade with other countries. So then, the citizens suffer so much, our tiny family was one of the many who suffer difficult situations. In those difficult moments, I still remember we had to eat corn which is intended only for farm animals since we had no money to buy rice for our daily sustenance.
Carrying these burdens, my parents have nothing else to continue to bear. The salary as teachers of Government public school cannot grant us, though our family is composed of only three persons, enough food, dress, and housing. My parents, looking at my face and smiled yet in their hearts they are not really happy nor have courage to smile. They were afraid of tomorrow. On the other side, they too have to be afraid of Government forces who are roaming around the city, who would shoot any innocent peoples then later tell the relatives to come to pick up the corpse. So it was a kind of hell experience. No safety for the citizen, no enough salary, no enough food, no enough shelter.
Life is as hard as it is. Then there was a time that my grandpa was seriously ill and my mom had to go to see her if she wants him to see his final days, according to a telegraph short message. She went back to her home town which is 500 km far from our place, together with my two younger brothers.
to be continued...
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