To Sacrifice or Not To Sacrifice

I did so much thought in it that I literally glanced up at the shining horizon. What should I keep. and what should I sacrifice?

It was believed that to sacrifice one’s self for the sake of others was a selfless act. But what if it comes to a person sacrificing something or someone he/she loves, will that be considered selfless? Or rather, selfish?

How one sees these questions is different from one another. I, too, have my own say, for I have sacrificed something that I adored a lot for the benefits of others around me. The story remains to be a dimly lit memory, and I only have the outline to see. And yet, when it comes to sacrificing, everything that we loved and hated suddenly becomes clearer, in a sense that we involuntarily tensed ourselves to focus on two things: which to sacrifice, and which to keep.

For now, I shall tell a short story that I have made that has something in common to what I'm going to discuss about within this article of mine. It tells on how to act when deciding, for every decision has its different consequences, and we, as simple humans, didn't have the power to see such consequences. It also tells the consequences of letting the important things go and keeping the wrong ones. I hope dear readers, that this is enough to say that you have to know which of those ‘important things’ is the most important of them all.

There was a young man who has a talent in painting, and he maintains a love so strong that he never sells any of his paintings, even if it for a hefty price. He also has a family of three whom he loves and whom loves him back, and he proudly confirmed with himself that he won't let money or any other worldly material to get in the way of him and his family.

One blustery night, the man decided to paint as usual, when his wife came home from work, wearing a glum expression on her face and hands both full, carrying two heavy-looking briefcases. The youngest named Jonas ran quickly to his mother and tugged on the sleeve.

“Mom, I need some help with my homework --” he started, but his mother interrupted him, her eyes focusing on her husband.

“I'm very sorry dear, I need to get back to work as soon as I can,” she heaved a sigh, and gently patted her disappointed son’s head.

Without looking away from his painting, he called out, “Is there trouble in the office?”

“They need additional workers, and I’m afraid I won't be home until morning,” she said hastily, before grabbing a packed lunch and shoving it quickly to her already-full handbag.

“What about dinner?” the eldest, Karen, asked, worried because her mother wasn't eating much during the last few days.

“I’m packing lunch. Don't worry. And oh, Karen, can you please help Jonas with his homework?” She called out as she quickly picked up the briefcases and went to the door, fumbling with her keys.

“Sorry Mom, I have a research coming up.”

“Then let James help him.” She opened the door, and shouted a quick, “I’m off!” And the door was closed.

James overheard what his mother said and frowned. “Can’t have any time at all. I have to rewrite my discussion paper.”

“That’s what happens when you forget your homework,” Karen said disapprovingly.

“Shut up, Karen,” James said and went to his room, slamming the door.

Karen sighed before looking down at her little brother. “If you ever need help, come to my room. Or, you should ask Dad. Right, Dad?” she called out.

No answer.

Shrugging, Jonas faced his sister, “Dad’s painting again. I’ll go to him.”

Karen nodded, and went upstairs to her room. Jonas proceeded to his Dad’s personal painting room, where all his paintings were crammed in one place. He gingerly opened the door, saw that his father was painting solemnly, and he stepped inside, gently closing the door behind him. He wondered why he was nervous of his own father.

“Dad?”

“What is it?” he grunted.

“I need some help with my homework, if that’s okay with you --”

“Son, I’m busy painting. We’ll do that later.”

“But, it’s due tomorrow, and I’m confused --”

“Ask your brother or sister. They can help.”

“But they are busy themselves, and --”

“Damnit, son, go do it yourself!” he shouted.

Jonas started to tear up. His father didn't do that before. “Why did you shout at me, Dad?”

He let his paintbrush go, and his fingers ran through his hair. “Because you are disturbing my work! Just go and do it yourself!”

Now the boy did cry. In his frustration, he shouted back, “You are not even working! Only Mom is working!” He kicked a small box in front of him, and it hit his father’s painting, which fell down on the floor, with several wet paint smeared on it. Jonas swallowed. He nervously stared at his father who was trembling. He didn't mean to.

“Get out.”

“Dad, I'm sorry --”

“I said get out.”

“Dad, I’m --”

“Haven't you heard?! I said get out!”

The door was pushed open, and Karen, with a disgruntled James, came in. Their expression changed when they saw a crying Jonas and their fuming father. Instinctively, Karen picked up her brother and stared at her father, disbelief clouding her vision.

“Dad, what happened?”

“Your brother --” he pointed at Jonas, who shrank away in Karen’s arms, “ruined my painting on purpose!”

“What a pathetic reason to get angry! It’s just a painting,” James said, unable to believe that his father was getting angry over something small.

“Just a painting? It was important! Something that I fervently love! And you ruined it!” He pointed at the painting that was lying down on the floor silently.

Breathing heavily, Jonas said, in a muffled and strained voice “You chose a painting over us! I am erasing you from my 6 most important people in my life list!” With that, he pushed Karen a bit roughly and ran out of the room.

“Jonas!” She ran after him.

James was about to follow, but he glanced back at his father, and said, “Who are you?” He walked out of the room, leaving their father quiet.

He had claimed to himself that he never replace his family even if it was for all the money in the world. But he had never thought that it would to this. It was his painting that made him replace his family. And he had never realized it.

That night, he didn’t sleep.

The next morning, Alice came home with a lot of weight on her back. Aside from the pressure that she had gained from her overbearing boss, her superior handed her a huge stack of papers that needs to be sent after a day only. She also sensed her children’s rising difficulty with their schoolwork, and she suspected a lot was strained between the kids and their father. And to think, she and her husband haven't conversed much.

She walked upstairs to their room, or had been theirs, for it was like they were roommates of different nationalities. Slightly opening the door, she can see that there was a huge breathing lump that was her husband sleeping peacefully. She closed it quickly, and proceeded to her kid’s rooms.

Alice went to Karen’s room first. The lights were still on, and she sighed as she saw lots of notes and printed reports on top of the laptop. Karen was sleeping with an open book on her hand. Lovingly, she took the book from her daughter’s hand and placed it on the bed table. Before glancing at the door, she kissed her daughter on the forehead.

Next, she went to James’ room. As far as she can remember, his room was the dirtiest among all the rooms that she had cleaned. When she opened the door, frowning as she pictured the clutter in her head, she was surprised to see no scene that was similar to what she was thinking.

James had cleaned his room tiredly before sleeping, and there was a piece of paper on top of his head. Carefully, she picked it up, and sighed when she saw that it was his discussion paper. She folded it carefully and placed it on top of his bag before leaving the room.

When she opened the door, there was a person on her son’s desk. Startled, she opened the door widely, and sighed again when she saw that it was Jonas himself sleeping on his desk. He was still holding a pen tightly even when he was sleeping soundly. There was a paper underneath him. Curious, she walked towards him and carefully lifted up her son’s head to get the paper, before placing it back gently on his folded arms.

She felt her eyes tearing up when she started to read the first sentence on the crumpled paper.

My 6 most important things in my life by Jonas Crumpleberry:

1.      My family

Note: Mrs. Juniper, I would like to list the people who are under this number, for everyone is important to me:

Mom, Karen, and James

2.    My family’s love for each other

3.    God

4.    My friends

5.    Everyone

6.    Life

Alice blinked thrice when she realized that something was missing: her husband’s name. She went to the desk, placed the paper on top, and grunted as she carried her son all the way to his bed. Placing the covers on him, she asked herself, “What did happen?”

In the end, after a lot of nudging, Karen told her mother about last night’s incident while she drove her car with her three kids to school. Everyone fell to silence, until their mother said out loud, “I have decided on this.”

***

“What are you talking about, Alice? This is…” he stared at his expressionless wife before he started to breath frantically. He cannot believe it himself. It was all coming too fast.

“I have decided on this,” she repeated in a strong voice, louder than before. “I’m sorry. It can't work out anymore. The kids, everyone, including me, you left us all out.”

Those words struck him, hard. He was still holding onto his paintbrush tightly. He simply can’t believe it himself. He felt his emotions draining him dry. What Alice was deciding on doesn’t sound like the best one she had.

“Alice, that’s not true --”

“Don't make this any harder, Albert.” She looked away, and covered a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry myself, but please don't make this any harder. You paint.” She stared at him with woeful eyes. “You chose your talent over your own family. And that is simply the most ridiculous thing that I've ever heard. And we were that family.”

“Alice, I --”

“Albert. I ask you, one last time.” She breathed in heavily. “Which will you let go?”

“I don’t wish for any of you to go! Please Alice, please.”

“Just choose Albert, the kids are waiting outside. You can't possibly keep any of us waiting for long.”

His thoughts reverted to his family. They were a handful, but life had been a great company. Their wedding, Karen’s birth, James’ first win in baseball, Jonas’ first loose tooth. His happiness was added…when painting came. He wanted both to stay, but he can't let go of painting. “Alice.”

“I paint --”

She broke into a muffled sob and nodded quickly. Picking up her bags, she went to the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Ever since that day, the house had been empty. Practically empty. Albert Crumpleberry had sold his house, his paintings, everything, but it had been too late.

Alice Crumpleberry had permanently moved to Ohio with her three kids, Jonas, James, and Karen. Things weren't working out as they were, but she decided to sacrifice her marriage with Albert for the sake of everyone’s happiness. It was one of the hardest things she has to face. She bit on her lip to keep herself from crying as they moved farther away from what had been their former happy family, now chosen over another ‘important thing’.

Life moved on, with one regretting, and one adjusting to the consequences of what they kept, and sacrificed.

I can't believe that, while writing this story, I cried a lot, and the touching background music that I was listening to added my emotions to pour out as I type. I have a similar ‘important thing’, and that is writing. But I thought over how much my family can make me happy than how writing can, and I don't wish to sacrifice them for the sake of something that I developed.

I have my own 'list of important things in my life', six, to be specific. The list includes: God, my family, my pen, my writing, and my friends. (People stared at me as though my hair had turned green; I can't help it, I just love pens) I haven't thought of the story on my own. It was due to the making of the 'sacrificing activity' (yes, it sounds weird, but that is how I like to call it) that I was able to make this story.

Just as I have mentioned earlier, how one sees an ‘important thing’ of another person (or even your own ‘important thing’) is different from how another person sees it. Let your complete concentration pour on your inner consciousness, and focus on why this is your ‘important thing’ among many others that you also considered as your ‘important thing’. You should know what to keep, and what to sacrifice, for the benefits of yourself, and for the benefits of others.

Thank you so much reading this, dear reader.