A Call From My Parents
Just now father called, telling me that he got sick, which meant he failed to work in the field during the harvest. Needless to say, the tough task had to be loaded upon my mother.
Some time when I could afford to get a phone, my parents planned to have one at home to keep in touch with me. And they usually called me once a month, neither more nor less, to unload their anxiety and save some money. And each time I would be a good listener, except sometimes when complaints of family affairs might be heard from the line.
It was the simple phone that connected me with my parents, which included news, mood, and love.