Zhang Xiaowen

Ginling College

Everyone’s life is a story in which we can see true experience and feelings. When my grandma told me about her story, she mentioned her home. It meant different things to her as time went and situations changed. She said that it took her whole life to discover and understand the meanings of home. It was her lifelong task and always affected her life.

She started the story from the period when she was still a young girl. She was born as the oldest child of a poor family and had to take care of her little brother and sisters for her parents were striving to make a living during those tough years. This much sounded like the life that many traditional Chinese young girls in poor families would always live and according to the fixed pattern of story, they probably would drop out of school and be fully devoted to their families. This was partly true when it happened to my grandma. She did quit study at early age because of the hard situation. However, she really loved reading and kept this hobby in daily life to improve herself. She never let the burden of home be a barrier to what was ahead. Unfortunately, she lost her youngest sister by accident and experienced intense sorrow. Thus, she cherished her family members and deeply realized the importance of home. To her, home was the integrity of family and to grow up together with her brothers and sisters.

Grandma wanted to be different even though she accepted the traditional marriage and constructed a new family with the man chosen by her parents. Since then, she began to have another home in her life. She didn’t fall in love with him then and just thought that maybe home meant that two people live together even forever in spite of no romantic relations between them. She dealt with routine housework and at the same time helped with her husband’s work. It made her feel bound to stay at home and do nothing outside home. Therefore, she tried various jobs no matter how difficult they were and even planned to be self-employed. She once became a farmer, a cleaner, a babysitter, a salesperson and afterwards ran a noodle restaurant by herself. They both worked hard and achieved their own success. During this period, grandma held the view that home was two people fighting for one common goal and collective creation of a better life.

As she grew older, she became a mother of two children. The family got larger and she needed to spend more time and energy to attend to them. Her brother and sisters also gradually had their own families, which brought great changes to the former home she lived in. That was still her home whenever she wanted to return. There was a wish for the home where parents were all good and regular reunion took place. In her eyes, the distinctions between homes lay in different people and different feelings and memories. She loved to enjoy the moment when the whole huge family gathered in one place, because only this time could show the home they owned directly and completely. Back then, home meant having more and more beloved people, which were the reason for her hard work.

Wearing a peaceful smile, she told me the end of the story. She is now in her seventies and living a happy life with grandpa. But many things have changed, all except this small house which once witnessed their past life. At present, home is a place that contains all of her memories and where the rest of her life will belong. When someone is old, it’s easy to become more attached to home, especially for her. What she wants now is to finish her life with people she loves and without any regrets.

And in these peaceful years, she still conducts simple work such as gardening. She is always a person unwilling to fiddle about all day and tries her best to make herself feel fulfilled. Grandma keeps perfecting her life as she strives for home and learns about its meanings. She never yields to the pressures arising from home, instead, she transforms them to be potential motives to pursue her values. To some extent, home exists as a witness of her whole life. Just like what my grandma said, this story will be sure to have a good ending.

Fang Shu

Ginling College

I am Sue. I am a stubborn girl. My parents’ temper is also not so good. However, it’s us – three people with seemingly contradictory characteristics that create a warm home filled with love.

My father is a reserved man who tends to hide his true feelings deep in his heart. He is not good at expressing his own emotions. He doesn’t bother about small matters in daily life. On the contrast, my mother is a rationalist and a realist who is passionate about her work and life. She desires perfection and even pays great attention to the least important trifles. And I, as the crystal of their love, I am just like the neutral product of their characteristics but maybe not a good chemistry. In my mother’s view, I am sensitive, lazy and passive exactly carved from my father’s mold. In my father’s opinion, I am too obstinate to change my views and always critical about tiny things just like my mother. But in fact, I would like to give myself higher marks. Maybe my parents haven’t found that smugness is also one of my shortcomings.

Since my childhood, my parents never stopped arguing. It’s really rare for them to have similar opinions. They will argue about choices of careers, expenditure of entertainment or daily life, and even the colors of toothbrushes. Both of them with obstinacy rooted deeply in their blood certainly won’t take a step back in quarrels. After the unpleasant squabbles, childish things come again. In order to prove and emphasize they are right, they will not talk to each other. I become the unfortunate victim of the ‘cold war’. As a considerate kid, I have to take the great responsibility of icebreaking. Generally, not even after half a day, my father will come to me and secretly ask “Is your mother still angry? Why don’t you have a look at your mom?” At that time, I will just run to my mother and say, “Dad lets me tell you that it’s all his fault and he is so sorry.” You think my mother will burst into laughter and forgive my father immediately like the cliché fairy tales’ happy ending? Too young, too simple! My elegant mother of course will just say “Ok… I know.” and calmly continue what she’s doing before. But I won’t tell you I have seen the upturned corners of her mouth after she’s listened to my words.

Nevertheless, luckily, there are still two things that they can reach an agreement on. It’s that Sue is not a good girl and she really should grow up. When it comes to educating me, they will miraculously stand on the same side. “Sue, why not clean your room now?”, “Sue, it’s dinner time”, Stop playing computer games, ok?!”, “For God’s sake, can you put more effort on your study?”, “Act like an adult and be responsible for your behavior!” and so on. Those words slipping out of my annoying mother’s mouth always accompany with my flattering father’s “Be a good girl. Just do as your mum says. Your mum is right.” I seriously doubt whether all parents in the world are so in tune about educating their kids. They seem to be in the same shoes when matching strength and wits against me. I have to admit that they take great care of me although with amazingly consistent indoctrination and it seems that I… enjoy it.

Now, I am far away from my home and live a dormitory life that I wished for. And I think jauntily that my parents can’t step in my life. On the first day of my university, I keep telling myself that it’s a good chance for me to be free from my parents’ nagging and I try my best not to miss my parents.

But despite this I miss them very much. I miss my father’s gracious eyes, his shabby cold jokes and even his bothersome echoes with my mother. I also miss my mother’s warm hands, her delicious food, and even her scary face when criticizing me. I strangely miss all these common and little things desperately. Is that love? Is that love for home that I will always cherish deep in my heart and never be fed up with? I have no idea. I only know that, at the moment, I really, really, really miss my parents so, so, so much.

I can’t help myself taking out my phone and calling my parents.

“Dad… Mum… I am… very… fine today. How about you?”

I don’t know why I say those words. I am not fine at all. I miss you so much.

I love you.