(Written by a young man in Beijing who will enter a university in Macao this fall)
(The inspiration for this article came from my mother who told me about life in China 40 years ago. Most of the people were very poor, and although they had full time jobs, both parents had to work in order to eke out a living. As no one was home to care for the children, they were placed in a kindergarten for six days a week. Only on Sunday were the children at home with their parents.)
It was a Friday afternoon. The fierce sun struck the ground hour after hour. It glowed so brightly that the sky turned pale, and the grass along the walk bent weakly toward the earth. The deep ditches had been baked and only the darker color toward the bottom revealed that they’d once held water.
Cicadas on the poplars lining the road were droning, and the intense heat made everyone walking there feel peevish. Rong was one of them. He was actually rushing to get to the kindergarten near where he worked, and he quickly passed the people in front of him.
A peddler was selling watermelon at a crossroads, and Rong heard the sounds of a sale being made, but didn’t bother to look. He had left his 5-year-old daughter at the kindergarten for almost a week and missed her very much. He wanted to get to her as soon as possible and take her back home.
Sweat slipped off his hair and dropped onto his beard as he rushed onward, and when a cart suddenly passed him, the wheels stirred up dust in all directions and all those nearby stopped and put their hands over their noses. Though now covered with the yellowish powder, he hastened on his way. The experience of having been a soldier in a special unit made him sniff at all difficulties.
At the gate of the kindergarten, he saw the usual crowd of people gathered there like bees. He slipped among them and moved like a wave toward the front of the line. It was fortunate that he was a big man, a peacock among sparrows.
The children, supervised by the teachers, were in a line, and as the parents and grandparents were reunited with them, there was a lot of hugging going on. As he watched the proceedings, he was envious, for it brought back memories of his wife. In his mind, she had always been the better half. They’d shared many wonderful times together. It was unfortunate that she had died after the child was born. He had been shaken by her death and began hating everything including their infant daughter. After several days of great unhappiness, however, he had pulled himself together and was determined to give her all his love.
He stood there woodenly, his mind going over the life he used to have, when he was suddenly jolted back into reality by a yell from a lady behind him. It seemed that she had just received bad news of some kind. He took a deep breath to rid himself of his feeling of depression, but time seemed to be standing still.
The number of people at the gate had decreased substantially, and he sensed that something might be wrong. He walked over to one of the teachers and asked why class 3 hadn’t appeared.
The teacher looked at him strangely. “You didn’t know?”
“What?” He was more than a little anxious.
“We put a note on the gate. A boy in class 3 has chickenpox, so children in that class have to take a special treatment this weekend.”
Rong’s heart sank. “A special treatment? What’s involved?”
“The children will be examined so that we’ll know whether or not they have chickenpox. If they do, they’ll get treatment immediately.”
“So I can’t take her - my child - back home this time?”
“I’m afraid you can’t.” The teacher was very sympathetic.
Rong paused for a few seconds before saying, “Could you let me see my daughter? Her name is Fang.”
“Okay, we’ll allow it after all the other children have been taken away.” The teacher looked around, and then went on, “You may see her in 5 minutes.”
Rong thanks the teacher and watched her reenter the kindergarten.
When Rong finally met his daughter, it was past 7 p.m. and dark clouds were on the horizon. The gentle wind had grown strong and stirred up dust and old leaves. In the gray sky, there was a dim red circle around the sun and the day had darkened. It was dusk.
“A rain head”, Rong said to himself.
His little daughter stood on tip toes and whispered to him, “Dad!”
Rong saw that there were tears in the lovely girl’s eyes. He squatted down next to her, and hugged her with his strong, muscular arms. Her scent was so sweet.
“I ’m sorry, Fang. I’m not able to take you back home this time.” Rong tried his best to make the words acceptable.
The little girl began to cry, and the sound was carried by the wind as they stood there together.
“You are a lovely girl, a brave girl”, Rong said, his voice shaking with emotion.”
Fang’s cries grew louder, and Rong suddenly said, “Wait a minute!” He took the girl back to the teacher, told her to wait right there, and then rushed to a small market nearby. A couple of minutes later he reappeared.
Fang was surprised as he ran up to her for he had chocolate in his hand.
“Your favorite”, he said, “with hazelnuts”, and he put the gift into his daughter’s hands. “You can also enjoy it with your friends.”
Fang was still sad, but she seemed to understand and stopped crying.
A mist began falling over the city and more thunder clouds appeared.
“You may take her back to the classroom now.”Rong said reluctantly to the teacher.
Tears mixed with rain drops began slipping down her cheeks as she walked with the teacher, the chocolate held tightly in both hands.
Rong stood there watching as they entered the building and then went back to the apartment where he lived in the rain.