"When I was a child, nostalgia was a little stamp, I was on this end, my mother was on that end. Growing up, nostalgia was a narrow ticket, I was on this end, and the bride was on that end. Later, nostalgia was a short grave, I was outside, and my mother was inside. And now, nostalgia is a shallow strait, I am here, the mainland is at that end. --Taiwanese poet Yu Guangzhong
Sun Bingwei
My cousin in Taipei passed on the bad news of my aunt's death. The old man is 90 years old. The cousin said that when the aunt was dying, she weakly said that she was going to heaven to see her third sister. Hearing this, I couldn't help but burst into tears.
My aunt's third sister was my mother. Mother has been gone for five years. I said to my mother's portrait, Mom, my aunt is going to heaven to find you as a companion, and your sisters are reuniting again, Mom, I miss you so much, I miss my aunt!
At night, witness the relics left to me by my mother. I carefully opened a delicate aluminum alloy box with a letter carefully wrapped in a plastic bag and a small box wrapped in velvet.
I picked up the letter first, and the envelope had a beautiful line of traditional chinese characters. This was my aunt's first letter from Taipei to San Francisco in 1983. I suppressed my emotions, gently opened the letter, and read it.
Dear Third Sister,
Hello, sister-in-law and nephews are all right!
The whole family rejoiced and cried with joy, and this was not the case.
Tang Shiyun: "The flames last for three months, and the family letter arrives at ten thousand gold." 34 years, there is no home, relatives can not meet, really hope to wear autumn water heart, endless bitter tears. Finally, the sky did not live up to the heart of the wanderer, and finally received a letter from his relatives. Third sister, your kind and warm call made the little sister choke up and cry. Looking far away, the sea and the sky are vast, when will the flesh and blood sisters meet?
Every time I remember a little boy leaving home, and now I am full of white hair, "alone but drooling". Day and night, I am full of sorrow. Seeing the book of the Third Sister, I learned that my parents who were thinking about the twilight of my life have all passed away. Receiving this bad news, I could not restrain my infinite grief and felt extremely guilty. For those who are children, their parents are not being raised; their parents are sick and have not served medicine; their parents are buried without seeing them; their parents are not supported by their coffins. My beloved little daughter, who is loved by her parents, can only kneel and pray for her parents to rest in the spirit of heaven. When you have the opportunity to return to your hometown, please kneel on your knees to pray for the old man for your little sister to atone for the sin of filial piety. Third sister, please tell me, what are your parents' last words when they are dying?
For 34 years, I have been thinking about my relatives on the mainland day and night. Third sister, I imagined the white hair of the father and mother who were leaning against the door, but there was no way to change the moving shadow of the third sister in my heart. I have often met you in dreams, and you are still so kind and gentle. Our sisters are 6 years apart. I remember when I was a child, my sister often took me to Jimo City to catch a market. At that time, I had small yellow flowers in my hands, small grasshoppers, and sometimes the third sister took out a house bird for me, holding a rope to tease me. The house chirps, I giggle, how much interest! Acting in the village, the third sister always carried me to see, when the moon is round, I always love to pestering the third sister, telling me the story of Chang'e Lady and the jade rabbit in the moon. I snuggled in the arms of the third sister, magically looking at the big jade plate in the night sky, how much mysterious fun there was!
The third sister took good care of me, freshened up for me every morning, and I loved to eat the taro burned by the third sister, which was really fragrant. There are also taro here, I boiled and eaten, steamed, fried, grilled, stewed with ribs, or cooked and fried in pork plate oil, but I did not eat the taro roasted by the third sister when I was young. I often think about these past events in a daze, and I can't help but have sad tears on my face...
When I was 15 years old, I studied at a girls' school in Qingdao and lived in the third sister's house. You and your brother-in-law care about me so much and love me so much. The poor life is permeated with sweet family affection. Fine grains are always given to me, and whenever there is a delicious meal, I always want to keep it for me. I remember that year, it was the Duanyang Festival, you specially made a few yellow croakers, picked out two large ones, and left them for me to eat when I came back from school in the evening. I was very tired of learning English, and at night I memorized English until late at night, and my third sister sat next to me and did needlework with me. Afraid of my heat in the summer, make a single dress and give me a fan. In winter, I am afraid that I will go early and return to the cold late, so I will make cotton clothes early and cover me with a quilt at night.
In the spring of 1949, the school was moved south. Ask students to follow the school. Go or stay? How could I, who was still shallow in the world at that time, predict the arrangement of fate? I didn't listen to you and your sister-in-law's repeated bitterness, and insisted on leaving. The father and mother, who hoped for the daughter chengfeng, feared that she would delay her daughter's studies, choked up and agreed to my request. The third sister couldn't help but tearfully agree.
Before leaving, the third sister solemnly gave me a gift, which was a copper box brick platform. I know that it is the third sister's most cherished prize for the first place in the jimo district joint examination. I held it in my hand and felt so heavy and so warm.
It was cold and rainy on the day of departure, the dock was noisy, people were scrambling to squeeze into the boat, and you and your sister-in-law came to send them off. I looked at the turbid waters and thought that I was about to leave my relatives, and my heart flashed with panic, and my two legs dragged like lead. Time is not waiting for anyone, I just said, "Third sister, I want to leave", I can't say it anymore. You cut the messy hair on my forehead for me, and with tears told me to be careful everywhere and to write frequently. I suppressed my tears and nodded in agreement. The whistle sounded, and I kept looking at the third sister waving to me in the cold rain, and did not want to return to the cabin for a long time until I could not see your figure. Later, he moved south and went to Taiwan via Hong Kong. God of Destiny, why did you so coldly throw me onto an island?
In 1953, I met Mr. Xu, a native of Hebei and five years older than me. Alas, "The same is the fallen man of the end of the world, why should they have known each other when they met"? Soon we were married. He was generous and had a good relationship with me. Let me in a foreign land, after all, I have sustenance. He was an orphan, with no relatives on the mainland, but he often listened to my hometown for me. A few days ago, he unexpectedly saw a letter brought by his friend from a Japanese friend who had come to Taiwan from Qingdao on a tour of the mainland. When he ran back to his apartment in surprise and joy and told me about this happy news, I was stunned. I hesitated, my hands trembling as I took the letter, and after reading a few lines, I burst into tears. Three sisters, three sisters, 34 years, I finally saw your handwritten letter, I know your news. Who can understand the miserable heart of a wanderer? Your family letters are like a sweet spring that nourishes my bitter heart, and I am mesmerized by the great joy of meeting you in your letters. I don't know how many times I watched it, for a whole few days, I couldn't sleep peacefully, tears always accompanied me, really crying and laughing and sad and happy.
Third sister, third sister, do you know that after the little sister went to Taiwan, I put the end of the copper box you gave me on the writing desk, and I have been with me day and night for nearly 40 years. In the meantime, I moved several times and never changed. Whenever I see this thing, it will affect my endless nostalgia and infinite thoughts about the third sister. When I can return to my hometown one day, I must return to Zhao and return this gift to you.
Third sister, now I am a person of half a hundred years. He even left his hometown and could not meet his relatives. The world is miserable, what is better than Si! Every holiday, relatives and friends gather, hope for the unification of rivers and mountains, and homesickness is always the hottest topic. The children are also willing to express their homesickness on the topics of "clear water on the edge of the village" and "firewood and grass piles in the yard". Isn't this all the subtle influence of my generation on the younger generation?
"I hope that people will be long-lasting, and thousands of miles will be cherished together", is the best song of Mr. Dongpo. I often chant it when I am homesick for the moon. At that moment, I was relieved to be able to bathe in a clear glow with my relatives on the mainland. I am convinced that one day, on that golden autumn night, our sisters and more sisters and relatives will be reunited in the hot land of their hometown, raise a glass to invite the bright moon, and celebrate the festival. Third sister, this day is coming!
Sincerely,
Little sister salutes
January 6, 1983
My tearful eyes blurred. I remember reading this letter at that time. Unexpectedly, the mother of this letter has been cherishing it for more than 30 years, until she left this world in 2016.
My eyes couldn't help but fall on the velvet box again, carefully uncovering the velvet and two layers of wrapping paper, and then uncovering the innermost layer of silk wool, only to see a small box lying quietly inside. This small box is brass textured, has a number of rust spots, and is yellowish green. Open it to see the stone platform that turned out to be the one that my mother had won the award. On a yellowed page of paper, there is a line of Juanxiu's small letters, which read: "In 1945, after the completion of the ink, the third sister won the first place in the district's joint examination, and the award was Shiga." ”
This was the first time my aunt returned to Qingdao from Taiwan in 1988 as a gift for my mother.
My thoughts opened up at once, and the long-ago past that my mother had told me before I was alive came to life.
Born in 1928, her mother grew up in a poor peasant family. There were eight brothers and sisters, and she was the seventh oldest, and there was a little sister who was 6 years younger than her. A difficult childhood, lack of food and clothing. It's a more difficult day in the spring. After the autumn grain is eaten, the spring grain is planted, and the autumn yellow is not picked. Borrow a basket of dried sweet potatoes from the east neighbor, and borrow a scoop of rice from the west neighbor, and come to the house to mix wild vegetables to maintain a living. My childhood mother often went to the neighbor's friends, went uphill to dig wild vegetables, pinch broom vegetables, and take them home to mix some sweet potato noodles, steamed and eaten as rice. When my mother was seven or eight years old, she could follow her brother and sister uphill to do farm work. Usually, I look at the vegetable garden, catch insects, pull grass, and water. Every time there is a market, the whole family picks vegetables together, sorts them out, and pushes them to the set to sell.
The days are moving forward with difficulty in frugality. Several of his brothers have married and had children. In the blink of an eye, my nephew is of school age. The family decided to let the mother's little sister accompany her nephew to school. At that time, the private school was set up in an ancestral hall and taught by a talented person who had fallen on the list in this street. My mother was eleven years old and was envious of seeing her little sister and nephew going to school. Just beg her mother to let her go to school and recognize a few words. The answer is that you are older than them and can help your brothers with their work. Besides, the family can't afford to support the students. The mother was helpless, and could only secretly wipe away tears. In addition to doing farm work, the mother also helps her sister-in-law to watch the children. I often carry my children to the front of the school to play. The sound of students reading came out of the school, so good. In particular, they recite the Twenty-Four Filial Pieties, because each story has two verses. The students read in a long voice, and the mother was fascinated by it. The child suddenly fell down and cried, and the mother came back to Her senses, hurriedly carrying the child home, causing the whole family to blame, and the mother was speechless, only the share of tears.
In 1941, there were two educated young people in the village, who took the lead in donating money to build a school for each family. The following year, the school was completed and Jimo Duan Village Was Established. There are classrooms from first grade to sixth grade. A principal and vice principal were set up and teachers were hired. Then all school-age children in the village, male or female, are mobilized to enrol in school. Hearing this news, my mother was very happy, that year my mother was 13 years old, finally had the opportunity to study, so excited that she could not sleep at night.
I didn't have money to buy a school bag, so I wrapped a blue flower cloth with stone slabs and school bags. There was no pencil case, so I sewed a small bag with a small flower cloth to hold the pen. Knowing that the family was poor and school was not easy, my mother rarely opened her mouth to ask for money to buy school supplies. Write the homework book with a brush, then turn the paper over and order it to copy the notes. To save fuel, read a book in the moonlight. My mother grew tall, only in the first grade, felt embarrassed, and directly applied for the second grade. She was still tall in the class, and the teacher ranked her last. Because her little sister studied for two years in the morning and read a lot of words, she became her mother's enlightenment teacher. With the help of the little sister, it didn't take long to finish all the first-grade books and make up for them. My mother cherished the hard-won opportunity to study, studied hard, went to bed late and got up early. The final exam of the second grade took the first place in the class, and until the fourth grade, every year the first place in the class was tested. The teacher praised, the relatives of the family, the neighbors on the street all praised, saying that "the old Fan family wants to produce a female show talent."
What an unforgettable time it was! The two sisters come and go together, go to school together, go home together, do homework together, and deliver meals to their mother and brother who are busy in the vegetable garden. Play together.
In the courtyard of spring, old cattle chew slowly by the sunny gable. Some red, purple, and white wildflowers bloomed at some point. The mother used a rope to tie a freshly pulled out house bird to tease the little sister to play. The birds jumped and flew, the sisters ran and laughed...
In the melon shed on a summer night, the sisters snuggled together, counting the stars that could not be counted, arguing about which Vega star was. Which is the Cowboy Star? The smell of melon wafted in, and there were many little insects on the slopes, by the river, and in the grass...
In the slopes after the autumn harvest, piles of green smoke rise. The peasant children were in piles, roasting sweet potatoes and taro. Burn grasshoppers, bean worms. The sisters are also roasting taro, not yet cooked, saliva straight into the stomach to swallow, waiting to eat, both of you look at me, I look at you, both laugh. It turned out to be black-nosed and black-mouthed...
After the heavy snow in the waxing moon, I got up in the morning and pushed the door out, only to see that the yard, the grass stacks, the roofs, and the trees were covered with a layer of silver. The sisters laughed and jumped in the snow, unhappy. The sister plucked the red-headed flower and placed it on the little snowman's face. "Haha, red nose, little snowman became red nose!" The sister circled around the little snowman, and the laughter of the silver bell led the father out.
The fourth grade final exam, the four townships merge, bringing students together for the exam. Her mother won the first place in the district with excellent results. The district holds a general meeting at the school. The district chief said that the student who won the first place in the district's joint examination this time has been studying for three years and has worked hard, and her spirit and motivation to study hard are worth learning from the students. The mayor personally presented the award to the mother at the congress. When the mother received a coveted dictionary and a shiny copper box, she shed tears of excitement.
After the devils surrendered, the Kuomintang troops came. Everywhere they arrested Zhuang Ding, urged grain and grass, and robbed the valuable things in the homes of ordinary people, which made the villagers and relatives panic. After the end of the elementary school was forced to disband, the principal and teachers were gone, and the mother and classmates who had just finished the junior high school dropped out of school and went home. My mother shed tears on the school card for a while, and the hard-won learning opportunity was lost forever.
In 1948, my mother got married. I lived in a small house in downtown Qingdao. My aunt was in junior high school at a girls' school in Qingdao and lived in her mother's house. It was the sisters' last time together. In the spring of the following year, the little sister moved south with the school, and has not been heard from since. It was not until she received a letter from her aunt in 83 and her aunt returned to Qingdao in 1988 that the sisters, who had been separated for 40 years, had to meet each other. When the aunt solemnly returned a copper box stone platform carefully wrapped in velvet to her mother, the mother, who was already a flower armour, cried with joy. My mother treasured it intact until she died.
It was my wife who brought me a steaming cup of tea and pulled me back from my memories
I stared at an open book of poems on my desk, which was "Nostalgia" by the late Famous Taiwanese poet Mr. Yu Guangzhong. "When I was a child, nostalgia was a little stamp, I was on this end, my mother was on that end. Growing up, nostalgia was a narrow ticket, I was on this end, and the bride was on that end. Later, nostalgia was a short grave, I was outside, and my mother was inside. And now, nostalgia is a shallow strait, I am here, the mainland is at that end. ”
Yes, I think, how can a shallow gorge cut off the compatriots on both sides of the strait who are "born of the same root"? If the sea recedes, people will see that the mainland and Taiwan were closely linked.
(The article was published in the core journal of the China Reportage Society, Times Report, No. 10, 2021)
Sun Bingwei Member of the Communist Party of China Bachelor degree Member of the Chinese Prose Literature Association Member member Member of the Shandong Provincial Prose Literature Association Member of the Qingdao Contemporary Literary Creation Research Association Member of the Qingdao Qindao Writers Association Director of the Qingdao Shinan District Elderly Literary Association Former secretary general of the Qingdao Railway Literary Association, he is a member of the sixth session of the Qingdao Municipal Federation of Literature and Literature.
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