A mother's eight lies. Here how the story goes...
I was born the son of a poor family, which often lacked food. Whenever it came to eat, mother would give me a portion of rice.
As she placed her share into my bowl, she would say, "Eat this, son. I'm not hungry."
That was mother's first lie.
When I was growing up, mother spent her spare time fishing in a river near our house. She hoped that what she caught would give me more nutrition.
She would cook the fish in a soup, which gave me good appetite. As I ate, mother would sit beside me and pick the remaining bits of flesh on the bone.
When I tried to give her some of the fish, she refused and said "You eat it. I don't really like fish."
That was mother's second lie.
When I reach junior high school, to fund my studies, mother brought back used match boxes which she would stick together. It earned some money to cover our needs.
Whenever I woke up from my sleep during the winter nights, she'd still be awake, working on the little boxes in the dim candle light.
I used to tell her, "Mother, go to sleep, it's late. Tomorrow morning you still have to go to work."
Mother would smile and say, "Go to sleep, dear. I'm not tired."
This was her third lie.
During my final exam, mother asked for a leave from work to accompany me to school. The sun was shining and the day was hot, but she waited for me for several hours.
As soon as the bell rang, mother immediately rushed to pour me a cold glass of tea that she had brought in a bottle. The tea was thick, but not as thick as mother's love. Seeing her covered with perspiration, I gave her my glass and asked her to drink too.
Mother said, "Drink son, I'm not thirsty."
This was her fourth lie.
To be continued in the next post...