Originally Posted by
Just AnotherPerson
We all come from so many different backgrounds no two stories are the same. Our ansestors toiled the lands, and labored, here we are the product of their actions. We are their continuations. Those who came before us worked to build a better world for the children of tomorrow, that is the way it has always been. In the bigger picture we humans are selfless, in the way where we live our lives not just for our own life but for future lives.
your Castilian .
My family story is a strange one. My father grew up dirt poor, and when I say dirt poor, I mean literally thier house had dirt floors. The story begins in Mexico, my grandfather a dashing spaniard with piercing blue eyes, came from a family of nobility (I do not belive in such titles, but for the sake of story telling) They owned lands and homes, and were trained in the arts.
Then, the revolution happened. The militairy commandeered all of their belongings leaving them destitute and with nothing. My grandfather met my grandmother part Spanish, part native Mexican. They were devout Catholics and had a large family. They lived in the mountains of Mexico. They lived in homes made of grass, and slept on straw as beds. My grandfather was educated and was the only Notary around. He filed birth, marriage, and death certificates. He was a skilled leather worker.
My father tells me of how even though they were poor they never lost their dignity. He says that they even ironed their clothes with an iron heated on the fire. Even growing up my father never let us go without wearing ironed clothes. He always told me to wear wrinkly clothes is sign of laziness.
My father says that as soon as a child was able he was sent to work. My father started working at the age of 4. They would travel by foot to the city, they would work all day. Sometimes their only pay was moldy food. What ever they received for their daily wage they would take it back to the family for everyone to share.
He told me of how they were so poor that the whole family would share a small apple. They would cut it into slices that were so thin you could see through it, and they would spend hours eating that one piece of apple.
My father started his own small business when he was little, he started raising chickens. He was able to make enough money to pay for his own schooling how ever limited.
My family to this day is very loving and considerate of others. They appreciate food and the joy of togetherness more than anything else. I visited my family in Mexico a few times, and the love that I experienced from them was like nothing else. There was so much warmth, so much care. I remember that every time we went I would beg my parents to leave me there, lol. I would cry as we left.
My family comes from humble beginnings. But they are wealthy in love.
I think love is the greatest thing I have received from my family lineage. My family knew suffering deeply, but even in that suffering they knew how to appreciate life. To this day they never lost that. I believe that it made them more compassionate. The fact that they grew up selfless looking out for one another, taking care of each other, made them kind. When I look in their eyes there is a kindness and warmth. Sometimes that comes from deep suffering, and deep appreciation.
What is your family story?
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