Have Your Journey

My grandfather, who often carried me to sell vegetables, lay motionless in the wooden coffin. It was evening, and it was time to do farm work while it was cool. I ran to grandpa and clapped my hands, trying to wake him up. Dad came over and took me away. He said grandpa was dead. My father took me away from my hometown and lived in a small house outside my hometown. The house was full of things. During the day, when my father went to work, he locked me at home. I would cry at first, but later I got used to it. Dad would prepare the day's meals and put them on the table, and put a chamber pot in the corner for my convenience. He would clean it when he came home at night. When I was six years old I went to school and was in first grade. One child called me a savage. I didn't know what savage meant, so I smiled at her. I want to make friends with them. They didn't seem to like me, so I stopped taking the initiative to talk to them. Later, my father changed his job, which also changed my life.