Nodira Jo’rayeva
One day, my uncle Sahib, who lived abroad for many years, came to our house. He missed his motherland very much. This was also known from the way my uncle Sahib told me about his childhood. Frankly, I really enjoyed this story.
– Many people used to live in one yard, my uncle started talking.
– It was summer at that time. Night we brothers used to joke with each other by picking the blanket thrown in the yard. Our games never seemed to end. And my oldest brother would not be able to put us to bed. Also, my mother, aunts and uncles, who couldn’t help gossiping about our shouting – “That’s enough, let’s go to sleep, clean up the mess” they wanted us to sleep more quietly.
On the other hand, my father was rarely at home. Most of their lives were spent in the fields. At that time, raising cattle on a collective farm was very hard work…
When I was a child, I was a stubborn child. I didn’t do what my brother told me. One day I woke up in the middle of the night. Something was moving in the middle of the blanket above me. I could see with my own eyes that it was the frogs that I was so afraid of. I screamed out of desperation, “Hey, Mom! Help!” Immediately my mother and aunt came to me. My parents saw me shaking with fear and felt worse than me.
In the morning, as usual, after washing and wiping all hands and faces, we gathered around the table. For some reason, snow fell from my mother’s eyelids. That person said to me, my son, get up and call your brother Sahib from the street. I was surprised. After all, why did my brother, who is always the first to come to the table, go out today? But I started looking for my brother, I heard his cry from the house. I turned back. My mother was holding a knife, and my brother was apologizing without coming out of the closet. Seeing me, my brother slowly came out of the closet and came to me and said, “I’m sorry, brother, I just wanted to joke.” At that moment, I remembered many great words my father told me about forgiveness. I hugged my brother tightly. I wiped the tears from his cheeks and said, “I forgive you, brother” I cried too, and my mother kissed me lovingly.
When my uncle got up from his seat, he softly whispered to my ear: “Don’t you hurt your brothers, okay?”.
Nodira Jo’rayeva is a student of the Bukhara Institute of Engineering and Technology
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