Story Source: Bottles Pickles - Book Chicken Soup for the Parent's Soul
"The father pass on to their children rather than words or wealth, but something unspoken that is exemplary as a man and a father" Will Rogers
Assalamu'alaikum wr.wb.
My brother in Allah's way. There are many things that have gone from us, one of which may be the attention of a father. Here we posted a story may be ibrah lessons for us. Enjoy.
I understand, a big pickle jar was always there on the floor next to the closet in my parents' room. Before bed, my father always emptied his pants pockets and put all the money recehnya into the bottle. As a child, I was glad to hear the tinkling of coins being dropped into the bottle. Gemericingnya loud sound when the bottle was only filled a little. Gemerincingnya a low tone when it getting full. I like to squat on the floor in front of the bottle, admire pieces of glittering silver and copper as a pirate treasure when the sun's rays penetrate the bedroom window.
If it is full, Daddy poured the coins into the kitchen table, calculate the amount previously took him to the bank. Bring the chips to the bank is always a big event. The coins were arranged neatly in a cardboard box and placed in between me and my father in his old truck. Every time we go to the bank, Dad looked at me expectantly. "Because these coins you do not have to work in textile factories. Your fate will be better than my fate. The old city and the textile factory here can not arrest you. "Every time thrust the cardboard box containing the coins into the bank teller, my father always smiling proudly. "This is my son's tuition. He never worked in a textile factory for life like me. "
Returning from the bank, we always celebrate it by buying ice cream. I always choose chocolate ice cream. My father always chose the vanilla. After receiving the return from ice-cream seller, Dad always showed some coins were returned to me. "Back home, we fill the bottle again."
My father always told me to enter the first coins into the bottle is empty. When the coins fall jingle loudly, we looked at each other, smiling. "You're going to go to college thanks to these coins," he said. "You can lecture. father assured. "
Year after year passed. I finally did succeed in college and graduated from university and got a job in another city. Once, when visiting my parents, I'm calling from a phone in their bedroom. I saw the pickle jar was gone. Pickle jar had already completed its task and has been on the move somewhere. My neck felt choked up when my eyes looked at the floor beside the cupboard where the usual pickle jar in place.
My father was not a talkative person, he never lectured me about the importance of a strong determination, perseverance, and confidence. To me, that pickle jar had taught those values with more real than beautiful words.
After marriage, I told you to Susan, my wife, the critical role that seems trivial pickle jar in my life. To me, the pickle jar that symbolizes how great love you to me. In any difficult financial situation, every night my father always fill the pickle jar with coins. Even in summer when the father laid off from a textile factory and my mother was forced to present only the canned beans for weeks, one piece was never taken from the pickle jar. Instead, he looked at me from across the table and flush it with a sauce for green beans is a little taste, Father increasingly affirmed his determination to find a way out for me. "If you've graduated from college," she said with gleaming eyes, "you do not have to eat beans unless you really want."
First vacation after the birth of our daughter Jessica, we spent at my parents' house. After dinner, Mom and Dad sat on the sofa, taking turns looking at their first grandchild. Jessica crying softly. Susan Then take it from my father's arms. "Perhaps her diaper is wet," said Susan, then they carry Jessica to the bedroom at my parents to change his diaper.
Susan returned to the family room premises eyes filled with tears. He put Jessica into Daddy's lap, then took my hand and without saying anything took me into the room. "Look," he said softly, her eyes on the floor beside the cupboard. I was shocked. On the floor, as if it was never the Holly, stood the old pickle jar that. In it there are a few pieces of coins.
I approached the bottle, reached into my pocket, and pulled out a fistful of coins. With a feeling of emotion, I put the coins into bottles. I looked up and saw my father. He was carrying Jessica and without voice has entered the room. We looked at each other. I know, my father also felt the same emotion. We could not speak.
Wassalamu'alaikum. Wr.wb
Posted again by Abu Adil.