A paper in a Box

                               
  Every child that is born get a gift from a family member, it’s a culture regulation. That they receiver the gift when they get older, in my story my Grandfather got me the gift, it should be a gift but it was a piece of paper inside a box
I received the paper when I was 8 or 9, but it didn’t endure anything to me because I was young and most children got a real gift not a note, but I didn’t know that my piece of paper was special then what I expect to get.
I was close to my grandfather and he was the only person that I use to open up to, not even my own parents, I read the note 1000 times but I didn’t get it, it was a full of wisdom words. I ask my Grandfather what it said, and his respond was the wise person questions him self Every word the came out of his mouth was a full of wisdom.


The note was a gift to my grandfather, his grandfather gave him. And he had the same problem. He didn’t comprehend the meaning behind it, till Him self reached the age of 80, he said, I wish I find it out when his grandfather was a life, and he always use to tell me , If I am lucky, I will find it out before he was dead.


It was Monday 5:00 in the Morning I woke up expecting to spend another day with my Grandfather, They said expect the unexpected, I Opened his room and he was sleeping and grandma was beside him. I knew something was wrong, he never stayed in bed that long. He Always said “ too much of sleep is waste of time”. I asked him if he was okay? He smiled and said everything was good, he always told me that truth, I tried to convince myself that everything was ok. But deep down I knew something was wrong. He woke up and we prayed together like always, his voice was weak, his body was trembling. After we were done praying. I saw grandma crying I still tried to convince my self that everything was fine.


I went on with my day, and went to school. I try to have a normal day but all day long my heart was bumping, when I came home I straight went to his room I sat next to him. He was trembling and sweating, Grandma came in and she said, she is taking him to the hospital, for one moment I felt Like my heart stopped beating and I Asked him Grandpa are you dying? He looked at me and said “ Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but the moment we spend time with the loved once. The last word he said to me was that he gave me enough time to find out the meaning behind the writen words in the note, but I wasn’t lucky, I couldn’t hide my emotion I hugged him and start to cry. After while I couldn’t hear his heart beat. The next morning I felt like I was alone in the world, no one to pray with no one to play with. I wished It was just nightmare and opened his room but it was reality. And I didn’t know how I would continue to live with out him.

After my grandfather was dead the piece of paper became part of my life. I am still in process of finding out what It meant. And I hope that I Will be able to one day. And be capable to give it to my grandchildren so that, the mission would continue . And one of the generation will find it out before the other one is dead.