Chapter 1

Birth

It was December 21st, an ordinary day in 1948, in a small village in Suining, Sichuan, China. On that day, it snowed heavily, and the streets were filled with thick, shining white snow. People could easily get lost in the vast sea of snow. Villagers walking on the streets struggled to make their way with their fists clutched to keep warm. Grey, or black gloves with small patches were so conspicuous in a world of pure white, like a black swan against a block of white swans. Thanks to these gloves, farmers can protect themselves from penetrating coldness. Even inside the thatched hut, the cold seeped up through the gaps in the straw walls, making the air feel sharp and turning the water in the earthen jar by the door into tiny pieces of ice. This winter was proving? itself to be another difficult winter, just like all the others in the past.

Let us turn right at the gate and enter the small but compact village. Inside a humble cottage, where a character “?！?(luck) was put up upside-down on the door, a baby's cry broke the peaceful silence. The cry was loud and clear enough to touch everyone's hearts. At that cry, a happy family was immersed in the wild joy of ushering in new blood—my grandmother was born. While the outcome seemed to be all’s well that ends well, my great-grandmother suffered extreme pain during the delivery process. Due to a lack of food and nutrition in the 20th Century, my great-grandmother was in a weak and poor condition.

As my grandmother came out head first during delivery, my great-grandmother got into a coma for a short time. She was worn-out by the long, arduous hours of waiting and worrying about both the baby and herself. Panic swept through the thatched cottage: the women’s whispers turned to hurried calls, hands patting great-grandmother’s cheeks and lifting her head gently, while the midwife didn’t pause. She kept working fast, and her hands were steady as she helped the tiny, squirming baby get out. For several rather long, scary seconds, no one spoke. Only the midwife’s? and the rustle of cloth filled the air. Then, the midwife’s voice broke through the tension: “She’s here! She's out! She’s breathing!”? My great-grandmother finally came to herself. And her first look was of a little baby wrapped in cloth, lying in the midwife’s arms. She tried hard to crack a weak smile, saying "Oh... Look at this cute tiny girl..."? ?

The birth was difficult, full of fears and unexpectancy, but in the end, the cottage was filled with my grandmother's cries and the joy of everyone who had waited so anxiously for the baby.

Decades later, when Grandma herself recalled this experience with me, her eyes would still soften. “They said my arrival was full of 'surprise',” she told me with small smiles, “I did give everyone a little shock.”