Mile of Mud

I like to share my story when I was in elementary, the struggles I endure every day, and the man who helped me reach that place we call School.

When I was in 4th grade, I live with my grandparents. My grandparents are farmers every day; they have work in the coconut plantation that they own. There is no mode of transportation going to my grandparent's coconut farm. We need to walk for 2 hours to get there. We used to live in the town, but when the times get rough for our family, we need to move and live on the farm instead.

We move there along with my siblings, who are at that time they are already in 1st grade. Living on the farm is simple all you need is all around except for soap and other necessities.

Then the time came we need to enrol for the school year. It's the easiest part. The worst is about to happen.

Just weeks before the first day of school, my grandfather has to change the route from the farm to school it means we have to remember the new route. My grandfather sharpens his bolo and cut through the thick vegetation for 5 days. Just before the classes start, my grandfather already finished the new route to school.

Every morning at 3 am my grandfather needs to fetch water from a nearby river to take a bath with no hassle. My grandmother, on the other hand, prepares our breakfast and lunch wrapped in banana leaves. That's our routine every morning.

Then Monson season starts, which means we have to walk in the heavy mud. The route usually took us about 2 hours, but now, it took 2 to 3 hours of walking because of mud. With our small feet, we waddled across these puddles of mud every day. Our shirts are soaked with sweat. We have to change clothes and ask people we pass to change our clothes and wash our feet in their backyard.

Every day, that's our ordeal, I pity my siblings for why they have to walk for miles along with me that moment I wish I could have a decent job to tend to the needs of my siblings, but we need to face reality I'm just a poor little boy. I envy those other kids that don't need to walk on these muddy passages and have clean feet and shiny black shoes. I just cried every night, " Yung iyak na pigil habang katabi mo mga kapatid mo". Yes, I did struggle but did not back down. I think of my grandparents every day, not thinking of the fatigue in my small body. We walked and walked every day back and forth.

Behind my struggles, I did my best in my academics. I graduated from elementary with high honours. As I approach the stage to receive my awards at that very moment, the memories of the muddy passage came to my mind that muddy feet of ours and my grandparents those memories flow right before my eyes.

As I write these words, I couldn't hold my tears, and it feels like it just happened yesterday. I think I will end it here. Let me hear your thoughts in the comments. This is my first time publishing something like this. Thank you.