Expectation? I’m wondering what the world would be like if there were not such a word “expectation”. I don’t like to use that word. All my life, I’ve been expecting so many things to happen the way I want, but sometimes they don’t happen at all. Still, I believe, each of us deserves great expectation that will come true. I fail many times, but I’ve never given up on expecting. There was one day, my very first and greatest expectation came true.
As a seven year old girl, I had lost my parents. They were not dead, but they had just disappeared. I lived with my grandfather because he was the only relative that I had in the world. I was always hoping that one day my parents would show up, and we would have a happy family ever after. My grandpa knew that I was not happy, not since I knew I didn’t have parents after my first birthday. Children at my school were always making fun of me. They said I fell from the sky into my grandpa’s house. I was very sad at first, but later I was used to what they said. Somehow I felt that what other children said about might be true. I was just a child without parents, and sometimes I still wished that I had parents. My one and only expectation was one day I would see my parents, and showed those kids that I had not fallen from the sky.
My grandpa always told me that my parents would come back for me one day. They missed me, but they couldn’t come home yet. I was told that story a thousand times already; yet my parents were still somewhere around the world. I knew my grandpa just wanted me to be happy, and not worry about my parents. How could I not worry about them? They brought me into this life, and then just left, and I didn’t even know who my parents were. I all could see were a blurry black and white colour picture of them when they got married. Even though I was disappointed about my parents, I still expected they would come back.
I usually sat in front of our small house, waiting for my parents like little birds sitting in their nest waiting for their mother to feed them. I thought those birds were lucky because they knew their parents. I didn’t. I was a lots bird. Still I had never given up on my parents.
Then another winter came. Like every year, the evil winter only wanted to swallow the town into its white big stomach. Everything was white! It was the coldest winter ever! I was sitting in front of our house like usual, listening to the wind blowing, feeling the cold of the weather. The chair was getting old. It was dented because I had sat on it since I was three. I told the chair, “poor chair, I’ll have my parents renew you when they come back.” The chair didn’t say anything; it seemed to agree with me.
It’s getting dark, I was going to get back to the house. Then, in the distance, I was two little black dots moving toward my house from far away. I was nervous! I wasn’t sure. I was hoping that this time I was right. They were a man, and a woman. My heart started pumping so fast. It was cold, but I could feel my whole getting hot. Eventually, they got into our shelter. They were beautiful people with warm smiles, dearest looks, and their eyes were bright as they looked at me. I didn’t think of anything else to say to them, but called, “Mom, Dad ?!?!”
“Yes sweetie,” they hugged me and my dad lifted me up, and my mom kissed me.
I was so overwhelmed because I knew my great expectation was finally realized. I couldn’t hold them any tighter. At the moment, I just wanted to stay inside both of them, and never let them go again.