Sad And Emotional Story In English(This story is going to stir your emotions, touch your heart and water up your eyes)

This story is going to stir your emotions, touch your heart and water up your eyes. It was late in the afternoon when i arrived in Molave crossing. Moving out from the bus, the weather was hot, the sun was still high. For about eight years i finally stepped once again on the beautiful land of my province. I took a deep breath and felt the air of a summer wind. Just a few meters away was an old waiting shed, a terminal for motorcycle or popularly known as "habal-habal". I saw two grown-up men, perhaps they were the riders waiting for passengers. With my bag on the right hand and a pail of biscuit in my left hand, i walked towards them. "Good afternoon sir, can you take me to Mankilam?", i asked. "Yes ma'am, for only Php250 i will bring you there.", answered by the first in line rider. After i gave the said amount to the rider he tied the pail at the far end of his motorcycle. Then he boarded on the motorcycle and put my bag at the forepart, exactly on his front, and I sst next to him. From his back, I could actually smell his sweat indicating his long day of work. A glimpse of smile drew on my face upon riding. I missed this!. I missed riding motorcycle on rough roads and with beautiful views on our way. Trees, bananas, cornfields or even vegetables that were what i saw. No huge buildings, no traffic of vehicles, no jostle of people, It was purely nature. I only heard the sound of operable motorcycle and felt the coolness of wind in my face and my long dark wavy hair moving following to the wind. After 20 minutes of quiet ride, we finally arrived. The rider gave me my belongings and turned back to Molave. While me, carrying my stuff gazed around. There was a rice field at distance with scarecrow. Nothing had changed. I saw the little me, when i was about 8 years old. I remembered how good I was in banishing the maya's birds that would eat our cereal grain. To guard our rice fields whole day was actually like a fun play for me and my elder sister. We loved to run on the dykes from the end of the fields to the small shed at the center of the fields. On the other side of my viewing i saw a dried corn ready to harvest anytime. From there I saw how excited and happy the boyhood's in our barrio including my four elder brothers every time my parents defrayed them to plant either corn or rice while my three elder sister with our cousins and other women whom their friends were busy preparing for the foods. I always had looked forward to planting season as well as harvesting season because it was like a feast day in the farm, only then I could eat delicious foods. My tears started to come out when I vividly saw my sturdy father wearing an anahaw hat. He was plowing, breaking fresh ground with the help of his hard-working carabao underneath the sun. Not far off was my beautiful mother in her stool shearing grass and cultivating soil from her vegetable garden. I was now weeping. My heart hurt so bad seeing and thinking about the sufferings of our parents in order to give us the best life. But now that we're successful we had left them alone and chosen to live far from them. I couldn't hold my tears back realizing how lucky i was to have these beautiful natures around and to be blessed with considerate parents. My reminiscence stopped when i noticed nearby a little light from a torch in front of the hut. Only then I realized the sun was setting down and it was getting dark. The man holding the torch was slowly going towards my direction with a woman next to him. I put down my loads. I was just standing, crying and getting nervous as I gradually viewed familiar faces. When the two reached at my front I clearly saw the man holding the torch was my father. My sturdy father that has now become emaciated, with wrinkles in his forehead and gray-headed. And the woman standing beside him was my mother, my beautiful mother with her walking stick. She was thin with lots of white hairs. As my tears continued to fall down, I was touching their faces, their hairs. I hugged them tightly. We were both crying. And I whispered to them, "I am sorry for leaving you. Sorry for letting you live on your own. Now, I'm back and will not let that happen anymore. I am staying with you for good. I love you so much mom, dad." The end

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