Lazy Sunday

*Wari Bruce is from Eastern Highlands province and she’s in grade 7 (Purple).

By Wari Bruce

It was on the Sunday morning. The sun shone above the hill top towards the east. The usual morning that covered the long stretch of grassland which slowly vanished into the thin air.

“Wake up! Wake up! Mother called from the make shift kitchen. Her voice penetrated through the blind woven wall and echoed in my ears. I thought, at first as if someone called me in my dream.

“Paul! Paul! Do you hear me?” she called again. This time her voice was a little louder than the first time. “Yes mum,” I replied lazily with both my eyes still closed. “Your breakfast is ready,” she continue, “go to the river, wash yourself and get ready for church services.”

My mind was still asleep after the sweet sleep I had the previous night. It took a while for me to fully come to my sense and regain my strength. After a minutes or two I slowly woke up and sat on my sleeping mat. Again, I yawned and stretched for sometimes.

“No! Today is unhappy,” I mumble to myself. My teacher would be unhappy if I don’t go to church now. Without a second thought I gently strolled into the living room and grabbed two laundry soap, then pull down the small rainbow towel from the clothes line and sneaked out the back door then headed straight to the river. The grass at the side of the track was still wet from the morning dew’s in the morning hours of the day. I felt shivering cold, but didn’t give up. I continued to walk towards the direction of the river. Not long I arrived at the banks of the river.

Without a second thought, I dropped my towel on the sand, pulled my green short down and jumped into the cool round pool. At first, I felt as though I was in a deep fridge. After I finished my bath, I felt very fresh from head to toe and headed straight to the house. A distance away from the house, I spotted mother. She stood silently at the doorway of our house. I knew, she had waited patiently for my return. In her hand, she held a white shopping bag.

“Son! She spoke gently. This time, she spoke with a deep smile.” Do not sleep late the next time? Take this plastic bag. I bought for you, your new Sunday clothes. Eat your breakfast, wear your new clothes and go to church.

“Thank your mother,” I gladly replied with my heart filled with joy. Not long, I was in the church with the other member of the church.

Published by Ples Singsing

Ples Singsing is envisioned to be a new platform for Papua Niuginian expressions of creativity, ingenuity and originality in art and culture. We deliberately highlight these two very broad themes as they can encompass the diverse subjects, from technology, medicine and architecture to linguistics, music, fishing, gardening et cetera. Papua Niuginian ways of thinking, living, believing, communicating, dying and so on can cover the gamut of academic, journalistic or opinionated writing and we believe that unless we give ourselves a platform to talk about and discuss these things in an open, free and non-exclusively academic space that they may remain the fodder for academics, journalists and other types of writers alone. New social media platforms have given every individual a personal space to share their feelings and ideas openly, sometimes without immediate censure. The Ples Singsing writer’s blog would like to provide another more structured platform for Papua Niuginian expressions in written, visual and audio formats while also providing some regulation of the type and content of materials to be shared publicly.

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