~~~~~
Being the first child of a Chicago farmer isn’t exactly a walk in the park.
Picture this: Heartaches, body pains, barely enough food to go round, the constant struggles to stay sane, and the daily grind of farm life. It’s like living in a soap opera, but with more mud and fewer dramatic pauses.
I’m Mary Johnson, the proud firstborn of Mr. and Mrs. Becky Johnson.
My parents are the epitome of hardworking citizens: devoted Christians who places a value on big and small things.
We live in what you might call a "charming" little cottage that’s really more of a glorified shed, and a tiny patch of farmland not too far from the bright lights of Illinois.
We weren’t rolling in dough, but hey, we had just enough to keep the pantry stocked. Well, that was the case until my siblings came into the picture.
Lisa and Lora weren’t twins, but they sure look and act like it. They’ve won the admiration of everyone around them because of how brave and intelligent they were.
Honestly, though, once they showed up, it felt like the chaos level in our house—our little house, went from mild to 'hold on to your hats.'
Don’t get me wrong—I love them more than I love my morning coffee, if I ever had any. I’d do just about anything to make them happy.
But is it too much to ask to have a little bit of peace and maybe a chance to live for myself? Not that it’s ever going to happen, but hey, a girl can dream, right?
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Now eighteen, I was supposed to enroll in a local college, on the outskirts of our town, and boy, how excited I was that day. It has always been my dream to go to college, but since we weren’t that financially stable, I never voiced it out until dad said I should go.
Mom and Dad were ready to sponsor me. I didn’t know how they were going to do it, so all I had to do was prepare myself, even if it was late.
That was my plan until I found out that my going would hold Lisa and Lora back from school because we had not paid their fees, since Grade 2, and I later discovered that all the money dad had then was saved for my college entrance.
To be honest, that didn’t sit well with me; I mean, Lisa was barely twelve and Lora was just ten years old. Every morning, I loved to watch the joy on their faces when they made a run for the school bus, and when they returned, or the fight between themselves when they argued about a single spelling.
These little things made me happy, and I know they were too, both were eager to learn new things, and they were happy to be taught, just as I was and still am.
But now, what would happen to that eager thirst for knowledge and those big, happy smiles they wore heading to and from school? I tried not to dwell on the fact that our society practically worships education—like, if you don’t have it, you’re a total nobody.
“This is messed up. I can’t just let this slide,” I thought to myself, pacing around in my so-called room, which had enough holes to air out all the world’s problems.
The next morning, we sat down to eat the—not—much of a breakfast, just vegetables and water; I noticed that Lisa and Lora didn’t have their usual happy expression, “I guess they heard.” I murmur to myself, as I try to eat something.
I didn’t have the appetite, but leaving the food meant wasting it, and in my home that was forbidden, so I just took my spoon and forced a lot down my throat, which brought tears to my eyes.
“Wow, calm down, Mary; no one is taking your food away.” Mom queried.
“Yeah,” I replied hastily, just wanting to finish it, and hurried to my room.
“Mary,” Dad called out to me.
“Yes, papa?” I raised my head to face him.
“Here, take this.” He said and handed over to me an envelope, which I took. I looked inside, and it was full of money. Even if a spirit had told me that my parents had such an amount of money saved up, I would not believe it. I looked at my pa in awe. “This is a huge sum of money.” I blurted out, there was no need to count it.
“Of course, it is.” Mom replied, “Your father and I had been saving it up for your college.”
“Oh.” I should be happy, but I am not. Saving it up? This means they had to work ten times harder than before, looking at both of them now, they looked old and haggard for their age. I looked at my father with a sad expression. “But papa...”
“It’s okay.” Father said, cutting me off, “Your mother is right. We have been saving up ever since you said, you dreamed of going to college. I already called the school. Even if it’s late, they are ready to give you one more chance; so you have...”
As my father continued, I partially focused on him. As I observed my sisters at the opposite end, Lora stared blankly at her food, attempting to suppress her tears.
Lisa, being the older one, was trying to act tough as she spoke to me, “Wow, big sis, you are going to college? I’m happy for you. We are going to miss you.” When she smiled, I knew she meant it.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore and just teared up, I sob like a child. While dad just watched me confusedly; mom hurried to my side. “What is going on with you?” she asked worriedly. “Why are you crying like a child?”
I shouldn't be crying, I should be jumping with excitement right now, but...
~~To Be Continued ~~
~~~~Instead of answering her, I cried harder, then Lisa worriedly asked, “Was it something I said?” She looked from dad to mom and then back to me, about to tear up, “I am sorry, I didn’t.”When I saw the single tear in her eyes, I hurried to her side and called her into my arms, I hugged her tightly “Oh Lisa,” I said between tears,, “it is not something you did, I am so, so sorry.”“What? I don’t understand. Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong.” She said, confused.“No, I did everything wrong.” I sob as I hold her face up; I can’t let them be driven to an edge this early. “Can you ever forgive me?” I asked in tears.Lisa took my hand from her face, she teared up as well, and Lora followed, “Of course, big sis.” She sniffled and added, “I forgive whatever you think you did wrong.” She smiled, and it was the best.“Thank you,” I said and stood, and patted both her and Lora’s heads.“Mary.” Father, who had been quiet, called me.“Yes, papa?” I answered as I dried my tears.“
~~~~Instead of replying, Mom just stared at me, utterly speechless. Her expression was like a storm waiting to break; she was clearly furious, but words seemed to fail her. I couldn’t blame her—after all, I’m the model daughter who rarely talks back. When I do, it’s as if some mischievous spirit has suddenly possessed me.Dad, as usual, kept right on eating, pretending he hadn’t heard a word. But I caught the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips.Finally, Mom turned to him and demanded, “Aren’t you going to say anything about this?”Choking back his laughter, Dad replied, “What do you mean 'say anything’? Isn’t that what you’re already doing?”“Daniel Johnson?” Mom used his full name, a clear sign she was furious. “You’re just going to let our daughter decide not to go to college? Worse, you’re backing her up? Are you serious?”Dad sighed, clearly worn out, and countered, mimicking Mom’s tone, “Becky Johnson, I don’t see you doing anything.”Lisa and Lora burst into laugh
~~~~The following week, things kicked off with a surprising twist. Lisa and Lora were back in school, their tuition fees finally sorted, while I stayed behind, embracing my new role as the family’s resident farmhand.My mornings were spent helping Mom and Papa on the farm, and by afternoon, I’d transform into a savvy market vendor, haggling over the price of vegetables, fruits, and spices that I’d painstakingly gathered from our land.At first, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. Let’s just say, I wasn’t born with a green thumb.But after almost two years of back-breaking work, I became a bit of a farming prodigy—well, at least in my eyes. I could tell when the soil was just right, spot a ripe tomato from a mile away, and even shoo away pesky critters without breaking a sweat.Sometimes, when Mom and Dad couldn’t make it to the fields, I’d step in, working tirelessly under the sun. I was convinced it was up to me to keep everything running smoothly. Mom and Papa weren’t getting any
~~~~So, just like that, I opened up to Rachael, laying it all out. I told her how I decided to give up my education and my dreams, so my siblings could continue theirs. I wasn’t exactly drowning in shame—I was genuinely happy to see my sisters moving forward.But, honestly, there were times when the sadness crept in, that nagging feeling of being a failure, stuck in the same place for twenty years.It was like a little voice constantly reminding me that I hadn’t done anything remarkable with my life. I wanted to change things, but the ‘how’ and ‘what’ felt like questions I couldn’t answer.frankly speaking, I was getting tired of putting on a fake smile, pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.The weight of it all—the sadness, the self-doubt—was overwhelming. Here I was, twenty years old and feeling like a failure with nothing to my name. No matter how strong I tried to appear, a part of me died inside every single day.Rachael’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Wow! That’s... well,
~~~~I stared at Rachael, my brain running in circles trying to process what she just said. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind, like a high-speed chase where every thought had its own getaway car.Was she seriously suggesting what I thought she was suggesting? Although, at this point, even that was confusing.She must have noticed the skepticism plastered all over my face because her grin widened to an almost cartoonish level. “Trust me,” she said, practically bouncing on the bench with excitement, “it’s not as crazy as it sounds. And hey, if it is, you know I’ve never shied away from a little crazy.”“What kind of proposition could she possibly have?” I thought, trying to make sense of the dizzying amount of possibilities. From becoming a royal farmer for the British food company to possibly running away with the circus, my mind was already imagining all sorts of crazy possibilities.Just when I was starting to dread the impending pitch, Rachael dropped the bombshell. “How ab
~~~Just as I had predicted, my mother stood outside with a flashlight, no doubt waiting for me. “Seriously? What am I, twelve?” I muttered to myself as I approached the house.~~~As Mrs. Johnson stood outside, patiently waiting for her daughter, an unfamiliar fear tightened around her heart. She despised the idea of her children working or studying in places where she couldn’t keep an eye on them. Whenever they left the house, she was filled with anxiety.She had grown up in an environment where children—especially girls—went missing daily. When she was about eighteen, she had a narrow escape from being kidnapped. If it hadn’t been for the man who would become her beloved husband, she and several other children might have vanished forever. She had sworn never to let her children stray far from her side until they were someone else’s responsibility. Even then, she insisted they stay in places where she could keep watch over them.“What’s taking her so long? The restaurants should be
~~~~Just what is she on about now? I pondered, watching my mom’s calm face as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her back leaning against the sink.Her posture suggested a calm façade, but I could sense the stiffness boiling underneath.“Reckless? Mom, I don’t understand what you mean by ‘reckless,’” I said, struggling to keep my voice from cracking. “Someone just offered me a better job opportunity—the best I’ve seen in the last... what? Two years of my—no, our lives—and you’re calling it reckless? What did you want me to do, Say no?”“Yes, of course!” she snapped, throwing her hands up in the air. “You should have said a big, fat no,” she spat out, her eyes flashing with anger. “We’re doing just fine as we are.”I looked at her, confusion starting to replace my rising anger, though I could still feel it simmering beneath the surface. “No, Mom, we’re not fine,” I retorted, the words tumbling out. “Look around you! We’re barely scraping by as it is. We need all the help—