RISE BEYOND
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RISE BEYOND
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Sometimes the hardest thing wasn't being poor. It was watching an opportunity you wanted slowly move beyond your reach. After everything I experienced as a child, there was one thing I desperately wanted: I wanted to study. Every time I went to school, I noticed my classmates. Some had shoes. They had complete notebooks and pencils. Their uniforms were clean and neatly ironed. Sometimes I looked at them and silently asked God: “Lord, why do other children have these things while my family doesn't?” I was only a child. Of course I wanted nice clothes too. I wanted shoes. I wanted complete school supplies. I wanted to go to school without worrying about whether there would be food waiting for us afterward. But another voice inside me would answer: “It's okay. As long as my family is healthy and happy.”
Sometimes the hardest thing wasn't being poor. It was watching an opportunity you wanted slowly move beyond your reach. After everything I experienced as a child, there was one thing I desperately wanted: I wanted to study. Every time I went to school, I noticed my classmates. Some had shoes. They had complete notebooks and pencils. Their uniforms were clean and neatly ironed. Sometimes I looked at them and silently asked God: “Lord, why do other children have these things while my family doesn't?” I was only a child. Of course I wanted nice clothes too. I wanted shoes. I wanted complete school supplies. I wanted to go to school without worrying about whether there would be food waiting for us afterward. But another voice inside me would answer: “It's okay. As long as my family is healthy and happy.”
I kept telling myself that someday I would finish my studies, find good work and help my family have a better life. I still carried the dream I had shared with my father in our little boat: One day, I would work abroad. When Other Children Played There were mornings when I saw children in our neighborhood playing. I wanted to play too. I was a child just like them. But sometimes I had to work in the rice fields instead. I understood that helping my family was more important because the work could mean having something to eat. So I learned very young that sometimes responsibility comes before what you want. But I never stopped dreaming about school.
I Left Home So I Could Study Because attending school while helping my family was becoming difficult, I thought of another solution. My uncle—my mother's brother—lived directly in front of my school. I thought: Maybe if I stay with them, I can concentrate on my education. My uncle was a regular employee at a big factory. Their family's life was very different from ours. My cousins had the things they needed for school. I saw their clothes. Their school supplies. Their neatly prepared uniforms. And sometimes my heart hurt. I wondered: “Why them? Why not me?” Why couldn't I have a nice dress like theirs? Why did everything have to be so difficult for me? But staying close to school came with responsibilities. Before going to school, I helped my aunt manually grind rice so she could make rice cakes.
I also helped sell them early in the morning. I washed clothes. I fetched water. Before going to sleep, I had to make sure the large water jars were filled. And sometimes, while I was doing those chores, I could see my cousins studying and reviewing their assignments. I wanted to sit down and study too. But I still had work to finish. Sometimes I ended up doing my assignments when I reached school. There were moments when I thought: “Maybe I would be happier fishing with my father.” At home, we were poor. Sometimes we didn't have rice. But we worked together. We ate together. We struggled together. And I belonged. At my relatives' house, I was closer to school, but sometimes I felt more like a maid than a niece. Still, I kept telling myself: Close your eyes. Endure it. You want to study. I Tried Again After finishing Grade 4, I thought perhaps there was another way. I asked my father if I could stay with my grandfather because his house was also close to the school. Maybe this time things would be different. So I went. But again, I found myself doing household work before and after school.
Once again, I felt that I wasn't being treated like the other members of the family. I tried. I kept going. But eventually it became difficult for me to concentrate on my lessons. And after finishing Grade 5, my education stopped. The little girl who dreamed of becoming a lawyer couldn't continue school. It hurt. But life didn't stop and wait for me. I had to find another road. EVERY PLATE OF FOOD HAS VALUE Those years taught me something I have carried throughout my life: Never take food for granted. When you have experienced having almost nothing, a plate of food has a different meaning. Somebody planted it. Somebody harvested it. Somebody worked to earn the money for it. And sometimes somebody sacrificed their own portion so another family member could eat. Maybe that is one reason I became generous later in life. I know what having nothing feels like. When I have something today that I can share, I remember the little girl who once wished she had what other children had. I don't give because I have always had plenty. I give because I remember what it feels like to have almost nothing. I CHOSE TO FORGIVE For a long time, I carried the pain of how I felt while staying with relatives. But as I grew older, especially after coming to Cyprus, I learned to forgive. Forgiveness doesn't mean saying that something didn't hurt. It means I decided that the pain would not control the rest of my life. And those experiences eventually affected how I treated other people. Years later, when I became an employer myself, I remembered what it felt like to be the one washing clothes, carrying water and working while others rested. I never wanted somebody working for me to feel that their job made them less important than me. Work has different positions. Human beings do not have different values.
Lesson
I didn't get the education I dreamed about. But my desire to learn never disappeared. I learned that poverty can limit opportunities, but it doesn't have to kill curiosity. I learned that honest work is never something to be ashamed of. I learned that having more possessions doesn't necessarily make a place feel like home. I learned that sometimes the person who receives the least becomes the person who understands most deeply how important it is to give. And I learned something that would follow me throughout my working life: When I don't know something, I can learn.
Practical Tips
Maybe you are a young person reading this while your family is struggling. Maybe you don't have the same shoes, gadgets, clothes or school supplies as your classmates. Please don't measure your value by what is inside somebody else's school bag. If you have the opportunity to study, protect that opportunity. I couldn't continue beyond Grade 5. That is why today, when I see a young person who wants an education but cannot afford it, my heart understands.
Word to remember
If life has already forced you to leave school, don't believe that learning has ended. Keep asking. Keep observing. Keep learning. Keep growing. A classroom is one place to learn. Life will become another.
