His mother died young, and his father was distant. In Nanjing’s Qing Sha Lane in the 1970s, the poor Lin family struggled to stay afloat.
At just sixteen, the eldest boy was forced to shoulder the burden of supporting the family and raising his four younger siblings. Life was cramped and difficult, with endless petty troubles.
There was the timid, sensitive third sister; the honest, good-natured second brother; the lively, beauty-loving fourth sister; and the youngest brother, sent away to be raised by another family shortly after birth. Each had their own grievances and vulnerabilities.
The youngest child in the family, Lin Nianning, was the gentlest ray of light in their hard life.
Innocent yet perceptive, sweet-tempered and considerate, she never made a fuss and carried warmth wherever she went.
Other people saw only the Lin family’s endless arguments, poverty, and hardship.
But with a child’s purest tenderness, she mended the cracks between her family members and brought warmth to all their lives.
Her eldest brother bore the family’s burdens, worn down by exhaustion, and she quietly comforted him.
Her third sister hid her hurt and sorrow, and she stayed close to protect her.
Her fourth sister was naive and impulsive, often getting into trouble, and she met it all with gentle understanding.
Through the rough routines of daily life, they endured the years; in their humble home, tenderness found a place to hide.
The family bickered and stood by one another, growing through every stumble in the tide of the times.
Year after year, the storms passed, and at last the years at the end of the lane were stitched through with springtime.
