Go on a Date with the Past

At the age of thirty, I stopped running around and made an appointment with the past. Looking back at the journey, there was no paving the way for fine clothing and fine food, only the kerosene lamp in the adobe house, piles of patched old clothes, and the preference of my parents hidden in firewood, rice, oil and salt. From the floral schoolbag that my mother stayed up late sewing during my childhood, to the hot eggs that my father delivered despite the frost on my way to school; from frugal and frugal but always saving the best for me, to my unspoken tenacity and support in difficult situations. In the barren years, the lack of material never diluted the warmth. My parents used the simplest actions to carve their love and confidence into my bones and blood. This look back is a review of thirty years of poverty but abundant life, and it is also a solemn response to the affection of my parents. Those days wrapped in love and those moments of stumbling and growth have become the most precious gifts in the years, illuminating every step of my future journey.