A true story.
I’m just a simple, working-class Papua New Guinean, struggling to make ends meet as well as get over the death of my wife last year.
I live with my four young children in a one-bedroom unit at Gerehu, a suburb of
We have this tiny little backyard stretch which we use to grow vegetables.
Some weeks ago, I bought cucumber and tomato seeds, which I sowed.
It became a daily ritual for my four young children to get up early in the morning and water and weed their vegetable patch.
The cucumbers grew up and started flowering, and every day, the little ones would tell me of how much they were looking forward to eating their cucumbers.
Last Friday, after work, I went home and wondered why they were looking so sad and sullen.
“Dad,” they chorused, “those big boys next door have pulled out our cucumbers.”
It broke my heart!
‘Tis little things like this that can hurt a lot.