 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The ancient Chinese poet Lu Yiu wrote a poem that described how, in the turmoil of war, he yearned for his family. When he got a letter from his home town, Lu Yiu felt this letter was worth a million dollars. |
|
|
|
Reading his poem made me remember the most difficult period in the Sino-Japanese war. I stayed with my family in our motherland, Panloung, a destitute village. Almost all the male adults had left this poor place. Some of them went to Farki before the war burst out. Some of them wandered to other provinces or cities to earn money to support their families. Only the old people, women and children stayed in Panloung village. Sending letters was the best way connect with each other in that time. |
|
|
|
One day, I was playing outside with my sisters, when an old woman approached. Her right hand was holding a letter. She asked, “Lupsuet, can you read this letter for me?” As a ten-year-old kid, I was not so sure. “Auntie Saifok, maybe I can try.” |
|
|
|
The letter was very short. It said, “Dear Mama, I joined the Army and now we are in the north of China. Believe me, we will defeat the Japanese beast! Your son, Guodong.” Auntie Saifok grinned widely and said, “Thank you! What good news! Can you write a letter for me?” I hesitated, because I only wrote letters as homework and had never written one for an adult. She patted my head and said, “You can read and can write as well.” |
|
|
|
The next morning, Auntie Saifok came and handed me a piece of paper and an envelope. She dictated to me, “Dear son, I am very glad that you are a soldier now. Fight the enemy bravely. I hope you will be a hero! Mama.” This letter was very simple, but expressed a mother’s great love. Guodong was her only child. To defend our country, Auntie Saifok encouraged her son to fight at the risk of his life. |
|
|
|
Later on, some more folks come to ask me to read or write letters for them. It seemed that I was a capable little girl. Sometimes I had a problem with certain vocabulary. A young woman became pregnant for the first time. She wanted me to write a letter to tell her husband this good news. But I did not know the word “pregnancy” in Chinese. I had a funny idea. Instead of the flat sentence, I drew a little picture in the letter—a stick figure with long hair, in profile, with a big belly sticking out and a tiny bay inside it. I thought that would be vivid and easily understood. One month later, her husband came back from the other city. The young couple was very happy to celebrating expecting a bay. |
|
|
|
Writing a letter for others is not a big deal. But I always feel happy because I did something good in my childhood. |
|
|
