My Story
We were stupefied again when we pass one of the scruffiest cabins. There were some haws on the ground and pigs lay on them casually and a wooden ladder connected the second floor. We could see there were also some haws on the floor as well and the family lay on them of the same gesture and right above the odorous pigs with dirty and shabby cloth. Our teacher took out her purse and an one hundred-Yuan note. She napped on the angel of the note and extended her arm as far as she could; maybe her arm hated the awesome odor of the pigs' or, maybe, the family's. The head man of the family accepted the note as silently as they accepted those pain and hardships in their life. They knew they didn't have choice to make. They had to suffer. They had to accept. Students all started to take money out their wallets, but I didn't and my teacher discovered that. However, she didn't say anything, she shake her heard maybe as I didn't dare to look at her directly so I was not sure. I stared at the crooked cabin, the dirty pigs, the filthy haws, the half-broken ladder and the family. This was not the way to help them. Charity in such aptitude was meaningless. The things they lack most was not money but hope. They lay there, right above the pigs, with helpless eyesight, not because of their short of strength to struggle, but because of the way for them to strive. The bureau took their fields, their river, and their mountain to rear as the place for visitors. I thought. "It's not the way it should be. I will change it in my way. I will trade their pain with my whole life" I said as my voice turned down. "Bullshit, you are stingy. Don't try to justify yourself in such a stupid way." some of my dear and generous classmates yelled. People dispersed and left. I signed lightly. I invoked another wave of exclusive comment, naturally. After all, that was no so practical. "I trust you." a hand tapped on my shoulder. It was the boy sat behind me in the classroom, not shine in common day at all. But that time I thought he was my God, my Lord, shining warm beam to my heart. He saved me in a way, in a spiritual way. I still remembered his name, Zhang Jiawei, so clearly after separating for 4 years. After the 6 years long lighthearted happiness in the Tibet, Lily migrated back to her hometown, Yueyang, a small city in province Hunan. In the worst middle school in such a small town far from the adjective "advanced"(No school accepted such a child from Tibet at that time); Lily was mocked and derided a lot. Her grade was very, very
22 visionary monthly
bad as a student from Tibet. She knew that the only way to prove herself and to win and gain her future is to strive for academic. For me, all the same, I was very lighthearted in 7th and 8th grade and my study was all neglected. I was 200th out of 700 students in our middle school which meant that I had to go to the worst high school in the packed city. My promise was buried by the time until I reminded it someday after my 15th birthday. I knew that academic was the only way for me, for us to prove it. Since then, Lily's and my life seemed to turn to counterparts. Staying up to finish exercises, reciting context during the 10-minutes break, discussing the vary solution for a mathematic plaza and refusing to hang out with mates and so on. Fortunately, it was not too late. Lily entered the teacher-training school for it was free of charge as the top students at that time, her home was not rich at all and she had 3 brothers and sisters. And I entered the Shenzhong as I wished. In 2008, my mom went to the Tibet again to recollect the reminiscence. In 1976, my mom immigrated to Tibet as my grandfather was an officer in the railway-building army and the Party tried to build the Tibet railway. After 6 years, 1982, the whole railway project failed and thousands of soldiers' lives were engulfed by the sacred and uncanny plateau. In that year, my mom withdrew with the army and her father back to Hunan. She entered a very bad middle school and then passed into the teachertraining school with free tuition in order to reduce the huge living pressure of the family. The experience that my mom liked to talk is that she once lost in a typical night heading for the snow mountain, the most sovereign one. My mom was almost frozen in the transport truck but she didn't cry as her mates, instead, she still murmured about the mountain. But, as staying in the army, she could not act as she wanted and after that, adventure happened. My grandmother guard her tightly so for 6 years, she even hadn't seen the mountain closely, incredible. Yes, you must have gotten it now that my mom's name is Lily. She was so happy to see the mountain finally in 2008. And in that year, the railway was built successfully. She visited Tibet through the railway that with my grandfather's sweat and blood. When she saw the mountain, hot tears whirled in her eyes. I also wept a tear for her. And how about mine? I will trade it, with all capacity in my lifetime.