A five-year-old sits beside the bus driver, his small arms stretched in front of his body. His eyes are fixed on the road, occasionally casting a side glance at the driver. He wears a content smile, spreading across his full lips, exposing his two missing central incisors. The driver nods his head to the song playing on the radio, and the boy imitates him. He's been mimicking the driver, using his hands and an imaginary steering wheel, mirroring the driver's every move. Sitting at the front with the driver is his favorite thing—it's all he can ask for, all he wants in this moment. He is content.
"You came at the wrong time," his father says, his head buried deep into the football game on his laptop. The boy hears the words but can't grasp their meaning. An advertisement for an expensive private school plays on the television. His comment about the school's appeal led to his father's remark. In another time, his father thinks, he could provide his children with all the luxuries in the world. The boy can't comprehend the regret in his father's words. He loves the train his father bought him, enjoys their walks to the rooftop, cherishes his father's jokes, and appreciates when he washes his feet. How could his father think he failed him? How could he regret having him in this particular moment? The meaning and despair behind those words escape him. He's happy with what his father has provided for him and doesn't lose sleep over what his father thinks he needs, because he couldn't ask for a better father. He's happy to run to the door and open it for him after work, content with the mixed fruit juice box his father brings him. He has all he wants.
His mother sits at her computer, a big gray diary with "2024" written at the top center beside her. She opens it and quickly swivels her head. "Why did you draw over my notes?" she asks. He is quiet, assessing her, checking if she's angry or just wants to know why he did it. "Tell the truth always," he remembers her words. He walks over to her and leans his head on her shoulder, explaining that he just wanted to learn how to read and write. She is sad, pained by his illiteracy. She thinks she must have done something wrong, feeling helpless that he's falling behind in his class. She hugs and kisses him, stopping what she's doing to help him learn. The boy wonders why his mother is sad when she makes him feel safe and loved, assuring him that he'll be the next Einstein despite falling below expectations. Her words affirm and give him confidence in class. He knows he's loved in her warmth, assured that she'll always be there for him. Her love is enough, the life she's given him is enough. He is content.
He gazes at the adults surrounding him, a whirlwind of thoughts fills his young mind. Is this the fate that awaits him? A life shrouded in discontentment? Perhaps there exists more to life than what meets the eye, or maybe adults are simply blind to the blessings they possess amidst their desires for what they lack. His tender heart ponders, fearing the inevitability of growing up. Will he too succumb to the relentless pursuit of perfection, forsaking the simple joys and contentment found in life's little wonders? He silently prays that he never forgets the bliss he feels now, the pure joy derived from the smallest of things. He vows to himself to never become ensnared in the perpetual cycle of chasing illusions of happiness.
About the Creator
Ivy Brownie
Here i share diverse life experiences, funny stories, sad stories, inspiring, thoughtful...everything. And also i share some writing prompts and educational material.
You can find my novels at Inkitt and Wattpad @ivybrown179
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Comments (1)
It is okay to chase happiness but one should never lose themselves in the pursuit of it!