As I gently closed 'Three Days to See', the story within still echoed in my mind.
The book primarily details Helen's life after she became blind, deaf, and mute. Initially, she was full of despair, but with the help of her family and teacher, she not only was admitted to Harvard University but also mastered five languages: English, French, German, Latin, and Greek, reigniting her hope for life.
Compared to Helen's childhood, mine seems so much happier. Helen's childhood was like a bird trapped in a cage, filled with hardships, while the bird of my childhood flew freely and unbound in the sky. Our childhoods were vastly different. Reading this book, I was reminded of an incident that still fills me with regret to this day.
Mom patiently said again, 'Mop the floor in the afternoon.' I retorted angrily, 'No! You always make me do it. Can't I just rest for a while?' 'No, you play on the computer all day, are you even tired?' Feeling guilty, I reluctantly agreed.
Picking up the mop, I mopped listlessly, muttering under my breath, 'Always making me mop, just knowing how to use me...' After exerting all my strength, I finally finished the living room and two bedrooms, but the bathroom, kitchen, and dining room were still left. I couldn't take it anymore. In a fit of rage, I slammed the mop onto the floor with a 'thud' and turned away to play games. When I picked the mop up again, I noticed the handle had cracked badly from my throw. My mind was entirely focused on how to turn the tide in my next game round. I thought to myself, 'Forget it, I'll fix it later...' I paid no mind to it.
When Mom came home from work, she flew into a rage. Her face flushed red as she roared at me, lunging like a ferocious lion. But I was already accustomed to her outbursts and watched her with indifference. Seeing that I wasn't afraid and realizing she had no other choice, she angrily mopped the remaining rooms herself... Looking at her exhausted figure, I felt it was something she should have done anyway.
Looking back now, my heart is filled with remorse. I regret treating Mom this way, especially since it wasn't easy for her to raise me. I should have helped her share the household chores. I shouldn't have often provoked her anger; instead, I should have listened to her well, not letting her worry herself to death over me, nor making her endure my youthful immaturity. My once naive self believed it was natural for parents to do things for their children. However, after reading this book, I feel I have matured considerably, realizing that children should be filial to their parents. Not helping parents is already a lack of filial piety, let alone demanding that parents do things for us. Compared to Helen, I can only feel respect and shame!
