Translated…
She woke from her nap, it was, already close to nighttime, she’d recalled that she’d just had a lunch date with her classmates from before, Chong-Tsi, who came back from New York, at vegetarian restaurant that’s been opened for a while that she’d wanted to try, but never had the chance to until earlier today. They all ordered the meal sets, she’d found, the foods to be very savory and very appeasing to her eyes. She’d never imagined, that vegetarian dishes can be prepared so well at all.
She thought: we are already, college classmates for over fifty years now, we’re all, over age eighty, thankfully, in this day and age with the advances of technology and medicine, although we’re all, overcome with ailments, we could still, live our days well. She felt, that she was still, more than blessed in her life. After she got up from her nap, she’d called up Ya-Wen, “Would you all want to gather again at that vegetarian restaurant before Chong-Tsi leaves for the States again?”
She took a cup of tea, and found and found a book on her shelf, “The Story of a German 1914-1933, a Memoir”. She’d picked it up, started flipping through it, the author, Sebastian Haffner. This, was Haffner’s memoir, on what he’d encountered as Hitler ruled Germany, written, like a novel, and Haffner being his pseudonym. Haffner’s girlfriend was Jewish, as the Nazis took over Germany, he’d attempted to escape from Germany with his girlfriend, after they went to England, they were married and started a family. Later on, he’d become a famous politician, and a historian writer too. He’d often written to criticize Hitler’s Nazism.
He’d written what he’d encountered as a teenager in a form of a novel, disclosing what he’d encountered, the draft was completed in 1939, but didn’t get published. After Haffner died, his son found the manuscripts, and, published it on his father’s behalf, “The Memoir of Haffner”, sixty-one years, met the world, and the moment it was published, it’d, caused the world to feel thrilled, it was called the “gem of all books”, it’d told of the mysteries of the Hitlerian Empire.
Haffner was born in December, 1907, died in 1999, at the age of ninety-one. The history of Germany in the 20th Century, is almost equivalent to his own personal histories, it’d shown, the fates of many German descents in this Century.
As she’d read “Haffner: a Memoir”, it was, as if, she were there, bearing witness to the cruelties of Hitler herself, it’d reminded her of the impacts of politics on the people of the various nations. And, everybody has a different story, and can be, written, into a book too. This reminded her of her own story………
not my photograph…
Born and raised, in the turbulent times in China, back then, the Communists were fighting the KMT over control of China, her free-thinking father feared that her thoughts may tilt toward the left if she continued her education, and entered into the students’ movements, he’d prevented her from furthering her education after middle school, and, by chance, she had, come to Taiwan, and managed to, continue her own education, and, had her own assortments of many adventures in life.
She’d really wanted to, pen her own story down, and it may be, somewhat, similar to the collective fates of all the Chinese people, but, she’d lived, in Taiwan, for over sixty years now, she’s no longer, accepted, as being a “Chinese” person anymore; but she isn’t also, a natural born and natural raised Taiwanese either, she couldn’t write the stories like a Taiwanese either. She has American citizenship, but she doesn’t look American at all, without the blue eyes, the blonde hair, or the pale skin complexions, she’d not at all, resembled Americans, so, there was, NO way she could write, an “American” story either.
And so, she’d thought, if she were to write, she would write, “the Story of a Person”!
She was, an ordinary person. First, she wrote about all the trials brought on by nature as well as mankind she’d endured in the world, she’d believed, that EVERYBODY who was born, is destined to suffer. Like how Christ was the son of God, born on Earth, lived, among man, in the end, he’d suffered, the worst kind of death, being, crucified.
She is going to write about her father who’d suffered through the MOST horrible kind of torture, the year of the Cultural Revolution, he’d fallen too ill, “Gladly, I have a daughter in Taiwan who’d not suffered!”, but, she was, tortured for, being alive. Couldn’t contact her own father who was back home, she felt tortured, and later on, she’d become, Catholic, she’d found her peace. Afterward she’d learned, that back home, her father and her younger siblings also became, Catholics, gotten baptized too. She will write about joys, and blessings too, on how when man is suffering, there would be, a light that came, like the holy spirits, lighting up the way, walking out from the painful darkness, and the joys of overcoming.
She thought about how happy she felt as she wrote, she should, start drafting. And so, she’d, turned on her laptop, and used the handwriting tablets, started with the title, “The Story of a Person”, she thought hard, should this story be, a heartwarming essay, or, a novel with the trials and tribulations of life?
She’d recalled Chong-Tzi again, she’d called up Ya-Wen to ask, and, Ya-Wen told her, “Chong-Tzi just left for the airport, she is on her flight back to the U.S.! But, she will come back this time next year.”
Can she not admit, that she’s elderly now? Forgetful too! Not gotten the time, to call up by phone, lost the chance to gather with an old friend, she’d felt regrets, but, thinking about how they are surely, to meet again, she’s filled, with gratitude again. She thought, being able to live in hope, life, is still very blessed. And, the trying moments of her past, didn’t feel trying anymore, that, was the colorful journey she’d been on, thanks to life. And so, she put down the phones quickly, and started, using the writing tablets to writer her own stories down.
This is on, looking back in the years of life, and realizing, that one HAS to leave a mark, a legacy, so the world won’t forget, that you were, here before, because if you don’t leave your own markings in the world, you will be, forgotten shortly, by the world, very soon, after you die, and that, would be, I think, the COMMON fear that the elderly population has, not being remembered, being forgotten, after one passes away.