the most favorite memory of my childhood

I was asked to tell a story during my English course "communicate with confidence" and I chose "your favorite memory of childhood" as my topic.  since I was not in the mood that day and it was spontaneous, I felt like I wasn't doing good in that session.  Therefore, I thought to share it here, in a proper way, in the medium that I think I do better than speaking.

 It was during my childhood when the teacher's day celebration was just around the corner, I thought about giving something special to my favorite teacher, Teacher Janet.  So, I asked ayah to buy me a bouquet of roses to be given to Teacher Janet.  I imagined that the bouquet was nice, with a few red and beautiful roses, wrapped in a lovely plastic wrapper, then I proudly presented it to my teacher in front of my friends. 

But, that was only a naive child's dream, without realizing her family condition at that time. Hailed from a moderate family,  giving a bouquet of flowers to people was something unordinary.  I knew that ayah had so many responsibilities, and the money spend to buy the bouquet could buy us something more valuable and worth it at that time. 

The teacher's day finally came. I woke up that morning excitedly. I searched for the bouquet everywhere but my efforts were to no avail.  I was really disappointed and realized that ayah bought me nothing.  Suddenly, ayah dashed out and came back home with a branch of bougainvillea, which I believed he cut it from our front yard.  He then tied a red ribbon he found nowhere to the base of the branch with the intention to make it beautiful. He asked me to give the flowers to Teacher Janet.

I felt embarrassed because the flowers were not the ones I expected. Furthermore, it was homegrown and not the typical flowers people used to give as presents. I went to school with the flowers but was reluctant to give them to Teacher Janet.  To cut a long story short, I finally gave the flowers to her. To my surprise, Teacher Janet loved the flowers very much.  She kept telling me they were beautiful and my ayah was so creative to make the flower arrangement. I was blurred and unbelievable. I need sometimes to digest everything until I finally woke up to feel proud and happy. 

I felt guilty about ayah and I thought I shouldn't have that feeling towards the flowers after all the efforts he made just to grant my wish. Later upon reaching home, I kissed him and told him about the story that happened at school. I thanked him for what he had done to me. 

Ayah is no longer around. He leaves me with all the memories. How I wish I could hold his hands and kiss him on his cheek just like I always do when I see him. Al-Fatihah to ayah, my forever hero💗. 

The flowers I used to give to Teacher Janet, during my childhood.