I was woken by jarring sounds of my mom yelling my name from downstairs, "Rhina, your father and i, will need you at the bakery today" she said. Mum, I just got back for my vacation and I need to rest, was my thoughtless response to her. I went downstairs and waltzed to the kitchen, where I ate my breakfast and grudgingly followed my mum through the front door into the car, where my dad was already waiting for us.
Sitting down and writing this article, has really made me realized how much I needed to help my parent. My father owned a bakery and it was the only bakery in my little town and so it was always busy and busier during vacations. My brother who was helping them had moved to the city and so my coming home was supposed to be a relieved to them and here I was being insensitive to their distress.
I remembered the drive to the bakery that morning, silent and seemingly unending. The last time, I worked at the bakery, I simply did the sales, but this time it was different . I'm in the kitchen mixing flour, moving between ovens of high temperature, coupled with the stress of kneading dough.
Time passes slowly and my mum took her time to put me through, showing me her secret recipes for the simple cinnamon sugar doughnuts. " Too much yeast and it rises to much, too much sugar and you lose the cinnamon scent" she said. All the while I showed no interest in learning but nodded as if I was listening. My eyes was fixed on the clock hanging on the wall behind her, wondering when the stressful day will come to an end.
I continued this routine day after day and I hated every bit of it, they was no time of relaxing, as the bakery was always filled with customers, most in a hurry to get their pastries to their office. We worked for about 10 hours during working days and sometimes more, but worked for 12 hours during the weekends. The daily requirements were physically demanded, I went home with sores and was always exhausted.
One week before the end of summer vacation, my mum called me to her room. I followed her in, my dad was sitting on a sofa across the bed. I remembered thinking they were going to scold me for something have done wrong. I sat on the floor mat, awaiting my punishment, they were about to dish out, but the words that came out of my dad's mouth stunned me, have never heard those words before, not from him. "Thank you, he said, "you did well this past weeks and I'm proud of you". He handed to me a new iPhone 12, I was so happy.
Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized that the have done for for merely five weeks was what my parents had done everyday for the past 25 years to get me and my siblings through school and I had been selfish and ungrateful. Now filled with profound gratitude, I made a resolution to help my parent anyway I could. And since then have been looking forward to spending my time at the bakery.
Moral: Always show gratitude to your parent, by helping them in the little way you could.
I admire the due respect you have given your parents by obeying their request. Though you are hesitant yet you did your best to help not just in a day but for days. And because you pleased them you were surprised by the unexpected gift as a sort of reward. I also admire your parents for their thoughtfulness towards you. They acknowledge your efforts so well.