The Warmth of Your Palms

Translated…

That, was the year I’d turned six, and, I do not recall how that older brother figure had, entered into my life, I just realized, that starting one day, a sixth grade older boy would, come to my classroom, at break time, and had me read books in Braille to him.

not my photograph…

Every day after second period, I’d always made my trip to the school store, to buy some buns, and, back then, it seemed, as though the students from the entire school are there as well, I’d had to, squeeze myself, really hard, into the long checkout line, and because the lines were really single-file, sometimes, I’d gotten into the wrong lines, and, as it came my turn, I’d realized, that hey, this was not the line to get the steamed buns, and at the end, I’d headed back to class, on an empty stomach.  But, after I’d met up with the older boy, every time I’d made it to the entrance of the school store, he’d be there, waiting for me.  All I had to do was, give him a dollar, and, very shortly thereafter, I’d get my hot bun, and the fifty cents that was the change became the “feed” for my “piggy”.

One day, I’d taken the money returned from the older guy, and the classmate standing next to me started hollering, “hey, he’d given you one dollar in change.”  Turns out, the buns I’d had had, were from his own allowances.

And that, is not a solitary incident of how the older boy took care of me, in the winters, as he saw me, he’d asked, “How many layers of clothes do you have on?  Are you cold?”, and later on, before he’d even asked me, I’d automatically told him how many layers I had on, and how I wasn’t at all, cold, then, the two of us would start laughing very hard.

As the only visually impaired student in the class, most of the times, my other classmates would look out for me, whether it be going to the restrooms, playing hide-and-seek, running a sprint, there would always be a classmate accompanying by my side.  But, which first grade student wouldn’t fight with each other?  And, when my classmates couldn’t win in argument with me, they’d stated, “You’re blind, I’m not playing with you anymore!”, and, this line can always, tear me up, break me down, and I’d turned, silent all of a sudden, and start crying.

not my photo still…

One afternoon, the older boy came to find me, and, he just bore witness to how I went from heated and powerful, into crying hard with my head down on my desk.  He may have been shocked by my actions, and not known how to react for the time bean, and he can only pat my head, told me, that everything will be okay, to stop crying.

“You’re blind”, is something that I just, can’t stand, hearing from people, whether it be right at my face, or, behind my back, my tears would always, start, circling.  And still, after that day, even if I had encountered similar situations, no matter how much I’d wanted to cry, I’d never allowed, my tears to get farther than out of my eyes—I’d recalled, how the older boy had, patted me on the arm, as well as the heat from the palms of his hands.  I can’t cry,  because, there would someone, who felt worse than I do.

And, in a blink of an eye, a year passed, and the older boy went into middle school, at first, he’d still rode his bicycle to school to visit me, and, perhaps, it was, how busy his school work got, I’d had to, wait, for a long time, to finally see him again.  When I entered fourth grade, I’d moved with my parents it Hualien, and, since then, the older boy had, walked out of my life.

It’s been over forty years since, and, I’d still remember that older boy.  When I felt beaten by life, I’d tell my troubles to him inside of my heart; as I’d gotten awarded, like made good grades, entered into good school, I’d shared my joys with him inside my heart too.  I don’t know if he misses me, as I missed him, but, that’s not important, I’m truly grateful, that he’d taken care of me, watched out for me, his little visually impaired younger sister.

So, there’s that close connection that’s here, between the older boy and this younger girl, and, the older boy looked out for the younger girl like she was his younger sister, and, this girl grows up, remembering the kindness she’d felt, from him, and, this experience in her elementary school years had helped her become who she is today.

You Can’t Stay Stagnant Just Because You’re Afraid