In the passage of time, I once believed that I could gradually fade away those imprints engraved in my heart, but whenever the memories came back, the waves in my heart were difficult to calm down. The policy of that time was like an invisible shackle, shackling the fate of every family. I already have a gentle and lovely girl in my family, but my family and my partner are always looking forward to the arrival of a boy, and it seems that he is the only one who can carry the family's expectations.
In the midst of this irresistible tradition, the birth of a second daughter seemed like an anachronistic episode. She was born on the white sheets of the hospital, but the eyes of others were strangely colored. Someone whispered that since I already had a lovely daughter, why not give this newborn baby to someone who needed it? But how could I give up my own flesh and blood so easily that my mother's love was overwhelming? However, the expectations and pressures of my family eventually made me make the difficult choice of giving her to a couple who could not have children of their own, and made a painful vow never to see her again.
Subsequently, the long-awaited boy was welcomed into the family. He held the moon like the stars and became the core of the family. However, as the years went by, his personality became more and more rebellious, and any advice I gave him would draw resentment from his family. Over time, I also chose to remain silent. Before he finished his studies, he entered a complex society, with no stable job and little return home. My eldest daughter is also immersed in her own small family, and my partner is bedridden for a long time due to illness, and the medical expenses are like a bottomless pit, which makes the family's financial situation even worse. In the dead of night, I always think of that little daughter, and my heart is full of guilt and longing. A few days ago, some unexpected things happened one after another. First, the partner's medical bills were mysteriously settled, and there was an extra advance payment. Then, in the corridor of the hospital, I met a girl who was very similar to my eldest daughter, and the momentary eye contact made me feel inexplicable emotions in my heart. I've imagined countless times what it would be like if that little girl was still with me.
One fine afternoon, she suddenly appeared in front of me, her eyes flashing with mixed emotions. She confided in me about her experience: she experienced the changes in her family as an infant, and with her mother's remarriage, she became a marginal member of a new family. The father in the new family preferred his sons and was indifferent to their daughters, sometimes even speaking ill of them. She told me that she was afraid to face us again, but when she learned about her father's illness and that our family was going through a difficult time, she chose to return.
She knelt in front of her partner's bed, tears wetting the sheets. At that moment, I deeply felt the greatness of maternal love and the power of family affection. Who said that only a son can support a family? Life is like a film without a script, each of us is the protagonist, writing our own story. In the face of life's challenges and variables, we should bravely meet every turn and cherish every emotion around us. Dear readers, are you also interpreting life in your own way?