Childhood Nostalgia
Food has a special way of bringing back cherished memories. Whenever I think about my childhood, one of the first things that comes to mind is the aroma of my mother's cooking.
Back when we were in nursery school, we would return home each day and immediately catch the rich aroma of food from the lobby all the way to our rooms. The moment that delicious smell reached us, we would leap with excitement because we knew our mother had prepared one of our favorite meals. We would quickly freshen up and get ready to dive into the food, eager to enjoy every single bite.
I and my immediate sister
I was such a foodie back then. I would eat until I could hardly breathe, and my stomach would stick out. My mother would laugh and say, "See this one, she has eaten to the navel level!" We would all burst into laughter.
Today, as I reflect on those moments, I realize how quickly time has flown. It has made me appreciate my parents even more for all the sacrifices they made to provide for us. I remember my dad working as a commercial motorcyclist, riding under the scorching sun and through the rain just to put food on our table. Whenever necessary, he would also take up carpentry work to ensure we had food to eat, clothes to wear, and school fees paid.
Through it all, God has been our faithful Protector, preserving our health and keeping us from sickness.
Even today, my father continues to stand strong, showing unwavering love, support, and care for his wife and children. My mother has always been the heart of our home, filling it not only with delicious meals but also with warmth and joy, and she encapsulates it with prayers.
One of my favorite memories is during the festive season, when my mum would prepare different kinds of meals. Those moments are deeply etched in my heart. Even now, those memories replay in my mind, bringing a smile to my face and reminding me of the beautiful childhood I was blessed to have.
My earnest prayer is that one day my parents will look at my life and my siblings' lives with pride and know that every sacrifice, every prayer, and every investment they made in us was not in vain.
I kept on praying for them to live and eat the fruit of their labours.
I love, my parents so much
