Fond Memories of Autumn
By Shi Tiesheng
When my legs were paralyzed, my temper became out of control. Looking at the wild geese flying back north in the sky, I would suddenly smash the window glass in front of me. Listening to the sweet songs sang by Li Guyi, I would thrust everything in hands into surrounding walls. Mother then hid herself quietly, watching my behavior out of my view secretly. Until everything turned still, she came in again quietly, watching me with her sad eyes.
“I’ve heard that all flowers are in blossom in Beihai, let me push you to have a look.” She always (used to say)said that to me. Mother loves flowers, but since my legs broken, the flowers grown by her all withered.
“No, I don’t want to go.” I beat my cursed legs desperately, shouting, “What I am still living for?” Mother rushed to grasp my hands, inhibiting crying,(saying between subdued sobs) “We two are together and live a good life, live a happy life…”
I never aware that her illness cannot became even worse. Afterwards, Sister told me, Mother often could not fall asleep for the whole night for her liver acching seriously( with pains in liver).
Another day, I stayed at home alone again, witnessing outer leaves following(watching the rustling fall of autumn leaves through the windows). Then, Mother came in, standing at the window, “The chrysanthemums in Beihai are blossoming. Let me take you there for a visit.” The pleading look showed on her haggard face.
“When?” “If you’d like, tomorrow is ok?” She felt surprised and excited. “Ok, just tomorrow.” She turned so delighted that she didn’t know whether to sit or stand. “Let’s prepare at once.”
“Oh, what a bore! It’s very near, and do we need to get ready?” We both burst into laughing and she sat beside me, murmuring, “Afterwards, we’ll go to Fang Shan Restaurant. When you were young, you liked puree peas best. Do you still remember our last tour to Beihai? You insisted that the poplar flowers be worms and ran to stamp on them one by one…” Suddenly, she broke off. She was more sensitive to words like “run” and “stamp” than I was.
She came out , but never returned.
She was still vomiting blood when neighbors carried her onto cart. I never thought she was so seriously ill. I never thought that was the eternal departure, watching the three-wheel leaving far and far.
The young man next door carried me on his back to see her. She was striving to grasp her last breath, just like her entire hard life. I was told that her last words were: “I have a paralyzed son and an unmarried daughter.”
It’s autumn again, Sister wheeled me to Beihai to see the chrysanthemums. The yellow ones showed simple and elegant; the white ones, pure and noble; the purple ones, warm and deep; all were in full blossom in the autumn breeze. I totally understand Mother’s unfinished words. So does Sister. We both live together for a happy life…
By Xu Chi
At the foot of Mount Emei, around Fuhu Temple, there lives a species of butterfly--one of the rarest rarities of the mountain-that is probably even more beautiful than the most beautiful butterflies in the world.
With its wings closed it resembles a withered tree leaf hanging from a branch--scarcely noticeable to the human eye. Gathering its wings with exquisite patterns, it conceals its beautiful colors.
When it flutters out from a cluster of blooming flowers and alights somewhere in the middle of its graceful flight, it turns into a dried leaf, not even of a withering yellow, but of a deathly grey.
It disguises its shape and colours in order to protect itself, but nevertheless it can't help ending up in being captured, not only because of its beauty, but more because of the withered quality of its appearance that covers up its beauty.
It is misled to believe that by so doing it can keep itself out of danger. On the contrary it makes itself more attractive, because there is another creature-man-that is cleverer than this butterfly. 'Ibis creature is exxtremely skilled in masquerading himself; no masquerading whatsoever can slide by under his nose.
Man captures it, makes a specimen of it and sells it in the market at increasingly high prices. What happens as a result is that there is hardly any of the butterflies to be found-the species is dying out.
The government has now decided to put a ban on its capture, but it's too late. The ban, instead, multiplies its price. The butterfly is on the verge of extinction.
Since we have got a pair of wings of beauty and truth, there is no reason to hide them. Why do you have to turn yourself into a withered-leaf-like butterfly as you are bound to be netted and sold at the market? Isn't it better to fly around freely on your flashing, colorful wings and keep up the line of your species though some of you have to meet their doom?
I want both sides of my wings to shine.
I hope everything in the world shows their true colors.