About two weeks ago, my family invited my uncle, aunt, cousins, and of course, my grandfather to our house for a New Year celebration dinner. Despite it being a special holiday, everything in our house seemed the same. No particular decorations were hung, no particular preparations were made, but having visitors over during the new year always gave a warm feeling in my heart. The smell of my mother cooking over the stove, the sound of my cousins playing, the voices of adults who haven’t met in a while, and the cold, bristle, February air slipping through the cracks of our windows; everything was the same, but different.
The visitors
usually liked to hang around until twelve, so me and my sister would excuse
ourselves and enter our rooms after exchanging greetings with the adults. Even
though we’re family, and we even lived together for a small amount of time, me
and my sister weren’t too familiar and outgoing with the others, so chatting
with them comfortably wasn’t an option.
Sitting around in
my room and maybe chatting casually, me and my sister never really expect
anyone to barge in, unless it’s a cousin holding a video game controller with
no batteries, or my dad coming in to offer us fresh fruit sliced by my mom. So
when my grandfather came in to find us privately, we found it pretty
unexpected.
“Oh, you two are
in the same room,” I remember him saying with a sheepish grin, probably
thinking that we’d be in our individual rooms. Seeing him, me and my sister
immediately got off the bed and stood up to face him. You wouldn’t be laying
down in bed using your phones while talking to someone, would you? Turns out he
came in to hand us our red envelopes. Perhaps he didn’t want to be interrupted
by our first-grade-cousin, or maybe he simply wanted to find us privately.
Of course,
receiving a red envelope on Chinese New Year is no big surprise, but what
touched me was what he said to us.
“Sorry for
forgetting both of your birthdays,” he said slowly and steadily, with that weak
voice of his. Of course, we immediately assured him that it was fine, and we
that didn’t mind. My birthday was just one week before, and my sister’s passed
long ago in November. Our grandfather’s forgettable memory really didn’t bother
us too much.
The instant he
spoke, the moment I received the envelope from his shaky hands, nothing really
struck me as special or odd, but once he left the room, once he was out of
sight and off to find the others, it finally hit me, how emotional I felt.
Perhaps it was
how sorry, how apologetic he sounded, or maybe it was the heartwarming smile
that was playing on his lips while he spoke, I felt a smile tug at my lips,
too, as I stared at the envelope.
Sure, the
envelope wasn’t as fancy as the modern ones that print characters on it, and
yes, I didn’t even see what content was waiting for me inside, but just the
thought touched my heart and soul. The thought that our missed birthdays
brought him guilt, the thought of how dear he held us, and the thought of how
kind and pleasant he treated us, even though we never do anything in peculiar
in return, even though we never spend enough time with him.
The money was never important. Yet what emotion I felt that night, held an irreplaceable place in my heart.
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Wow I'm emotional this is the best essay I've ever written
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熟的不熟的都來流言吧٩(●˙▿˙●)۶