" If I were you," the school principal rasped, crackling like some logs in a fire place. “ I would go back to my parents and help them in the farm.”

Felix bottled up the fountain inside him until students returned to their classes.

He found a spot by a disposed classroom desk and sat, propping his knees.

Not only had he started school late, at the age of six, he was the oldest in nursery two.

After two full years, progress was still far beyond his world like a voyager.

He got home and made a beeline for his room.

The warm greeting of a bubbly child to his aging parents were lost to the impact of a misguided speech.

Sobbing in his room, Felix scribbled on his walls until sleep overtook him.

Several moon went by, and years rolled away.

Drought came like a harbinger, and famine stayed on rent.

The whole county was weary, but a certain household came up from their farm settlement, periodically, with food and fruits for the people.

Initially, the magistrate didn't take it seriously that the farmer had a scar on the side of his face like someone he had met long ago. The feeling soon came to stay, but he could not picture where he had met this farmer.

Eventually, the famine was quit from the county once the rain returned. Seeds were grown and flourished, but the county could not forget the farmer.

On the day he was to be honored, the king paid a visit, and the past came to light.

“ A certain principal once  advised me to return to the farm. I owe him my thanks....Today, this award is a testament that farmers are just as important as the scholars in our country.” Felix stated, smiling at the magistrate.