We were once poor as the poorest, outcasts from where our other rich relatives gathered. They scorned us openly. Some would whisper when we passed, some would pretend not to see us, and others would offer those tiny smiles that carried more pity than kindness. At family meetings, they made us sit at the back, as if poverty was a stain that could spread by touch. My siblings and I felt every bit of it.
But life has a way of turning quietly, like a bird changing direction mid-flight. One day, fortune finally smiled on us. My father, after years of rejection and heartbreaking interviews, received a call that changed everything, he had been hired as an aircraft mechanic for a growing aviation company. The joy in our small house that night moved like a fleet of bright hopes rushing through each of us.
With his new job came steady income, dignity, and a chance to breathe freely. My mother started a small business, we moved into a decent home, and slowly the same relatives who once mocked us began to soften their voices. Some even tried to draw close again.
We didn’t become proud or bitter. Instead, we carried our past like a reminder: life can rise, even from the deepest shadow.
Thanks for reading
@ritaetim