`¤*«مُحمدْ البادِيْ»*-¤
¬°•| غَيثُ مِن الَعطاء ُ|•°¬
Here is a little paragraph I wrote for one of my family, just to show you nothing else
Whenever I feel the pleasant breeze blows gently on my face at the sunset, a sudden sadness pops up and makes my chest tights. I knew it. It is the feeling of the past. Does it mean that I want to return back to those days when I used to play joyfully without worrying about the future? Perhaps, who knows?
My chest is aching and a tear is trying to burst out. Ah, I remember the very first morning I went to school. I was as little as those kids who are wearing beautiful and elegant clothes except that I was dressing in an untidy manner and my hair was curly. I was so little that I was wondering how big and tall my father was when I was out of breathing trying to catch up with him at the school. I wondered, then, why my father brought my up with him. But I soon was engulfed in the wonder of the flood of the people and the kids in the school’s yard.
The first two weeks of my school’s days were horrible. I was a crybaby and unless my mother or my older sister had accompanied me to the school I would not have dared to step a foot into it. My teacher was so nasty that I feared her and not to mention the her long stick which used to give off a sensation of warning if we did not pay attention at the class.
I feel I want to witness those lovely days again, but alas no matter what, nothing would return back. Though I witnessed in those days sorrow and happiness, joyfulness and sadness, I deem them my great treasure which I wanted to share it with you today. Thank you very much for giving me you attention. I hope you enjoyed
Whenever I feel the pleasant breeze blows gently on my face at the sunset, a sudden sadness pops up and makes my chest tights. I knew it. It is the feeling of the past. Does it mean that I want to return back to those days when I used to play joyfully without worrying about the future? Perhaps, who knows?
My chest is aching and a tear is trying to burst out. Ah, I remember the very first morning I went to school. I was as little as those kids who are wearing beautiful and elegant clothes except that I was dressing in an untidy manner and my hair was curly. I was so little that I was wondering how big and tall my father was when I was out of breathing trying to catch up with him at the school. I wondered, then, why my father brought my up with him. But I soon was engulfed in the wonder of the flood of the people and the kids in the school’s yard.
The first two weeks of my school’s days were horrible. I was a crybaby and unless my mother or my older sister had accompanied me to the school I would not have dared to step a foot into it. My teacher was so nasty that I feared her and not to mention the her long stick which used to give off a sensation of warning if we did not pay attention at the class.
I feel I want to witness those lovely days again, but alas no matter what, nothing would return back. Though I witnessed in those days sorrow and happiness, joyfulness and sadness, I deem them my great treasure which I wanted to share it with you today. Thank you very much for giving me you attention. I hope you enjoyed
![[ود]](/vb/data/avatars/m/7/7418.jpg?1416385870){kind=avatar}
