Perspective of Mom

I get home from work and am nervous. We eat dinner as a family, but I try to eat quickly. I’m anxious. I need to tell Xi-reng and Grandma the news about the Cultural Revolution.

I go up to them and whisper, “Pictures, we need to burn them.” They both give me a slight glance of confusion, but nod. I wish the Cultural Revolution didn’t exist. I wouldn’t have to lie to my children or come home as nervous wreck every day. Well, not all wishes come true.

“Kids, why don’t you go outside and play,” I say, “We have something to take care of.” As always, they don’t ask any questions and go outside. Soon after Grandma, Xi-reng and I get to work. I tell Grandma to stay outside in case the children come back in. Without speaking, Xi-reng and I manage to burn most of the pictures. It’s hard to see all of the memories crumble in the fire, but I know it is for the safety of the family. Knowing this motivates me to work faster, even with the heavy smoke.

I see the dark sky and know the children will be coming soon. Just then I hear the door open, but remember Grandma sitting on the couch. I hear a mumble of voices outside the bathroom door, and then a knock. I open the door a little to see Ji-li and Ji-yun. I open the door just a little more so they can come in. Xi-reng sees their faces in the smoke and gives them a glass of water.

“We can’t open the window any wider,” Xi-reng says, “The neighbors might notice the smoke and report us.” Then Ji-li picks up one f the pictures of Xi-reng and Grandma on a camel.

“Mom this one doesn’t have long gowns or anything,” Ji-yun says, “Can’t we keep it?”

“The Red Guards might say that only rich kids could ride a camel,” I say, “And besides, Grandma is wearing a fur coat .” Like all of the others, I threw the picture in the fire. I see Ji-li and Ji-yun watch it burn and feel bad for them. They are only little kids and they have to go through this. Being “brainwashed” into thinking that all old things are bad. But I can’t change the Revolution, so I keep trying to protect my family. I continue to burn the pictures until there are none left. I flush the ashes down the toilet, glad to be done. I finally go to bed after what seemed like a week.

Then I think to myself, “Is this really what I want my kids to remember as their childhood?”