Love and hope stories
That night, he brought out a jar filled with peas, smiling, “Not knowing how long you’d be gone, I put one in every day.” She counted through tears, 2196 peas. He was uneducated, couldn’t understand TV or calendars, and used this clumsy way to record her days away.
Those 2196 peas were 2196 thoughts, 2196 calls of love. She silently counted, holding them, tears falling to the ground.
That year, she was sixteen, at the age of blossoming. Because her father, during a company dinner, accidentally said that spirit determines matter, he was labeled as a leftist and imprisoned. Her mother was so angry that she jumped off a building, and she went from being a happy high school student to a despised object of reform.
She was sent to a small farm in Beidahuang, where she worked and accepted reform.
The most feared time was the collective meetings, where she was often dragged out.
She kept her head down, kneeling, conforming to the will of the masses, or else their spittle alone could drown her. She even cut the clothes her mother bought her for her birthday into rags, chopped her long black hair into a bob, and her fair skin turned dark under the sun. A girl’s youth lost its brightness.
One time, after just finishing work, the lame team leader suddenly called her over, calling her a capitalist’s lackey. The so-called lackey was found with her ballpoint pen and diary. The team leader was going to destroy the pen and diary. For the first time, she resisted. The team leader grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the wall.
Suddenly, a man ran in from outside, fiercely hugging the team leader. Everyone covered their noses. He was a beggar, orphaned since childhood, and no one took issue with him. The team leader, disgusted, let go and walked away, brushing off his clothes.
He looked at her, grinning foolishly, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here by your side. No one dares to bully you.” She looked at him, gratefully nodding. From then on, he wandered around the farm every day, and no one dared to trouble her anymore because he would fight for her.
Knowing she was malnourished, he found ways to bring her clean food. That small bag of peas was personally roasted by him for her.
She understood his kindness. Sometimes, she thought about marrying him to find a warm harbor for her drifting heart. But she felt reluctant because she didn’t belong there. She often looked south and told him, “That’s where my roots are.”
When college entrance exams were reinstated, she returned to the city and asked him to come with her. Initially, he was unwilling. She said if he didn’t come, she would have no family by her side.
He took on all the household chores, buying groceries, cooking, mopping, and washing clothes. He even found two part-time jobs. He said, “You just focus on preparing for the exam; leave everything else to me.”
Tears trickled down as she hugged him for the first time, thinking, “I will marry him without regret.” Later, she was accepted into Tsinghua University, becoming one of the first lucky ones after the exam reinstatement. When she left, he said, “Go and do well; I’ll be waiting at home.”
Three years flew by. After graduating, she had the opportunity to study abroad in the U.S. She came home specifically to ask him. He still said, “Go, I’ll be waiting at home.”
She wanted to get married before leaving, but he disagreed, saying, “Wait until your father is released.” She didn’t insist; she was still young and had many dreams to pursue.
In the U.S., she studied hard, not wanting him to bear too much. After earning her master’s degree, many local companies offered her opportunities, all part of her former dream of getting a green card and living a life of wine and coffee. But she declined, knowing he wouldn’t want to leave; his roots were at home.
Returning home, she found her father leisurely smoking. She asked, “Where is he?” Her father said, “Knowing you were coming back, he’s busy in the kitchen.”
She ran to the kitchen, where he was cooking a delicious meal amid swirling smoke. Seeing her, he said, “You’re back.” She nodded gently, “I’m not leaving again.” He took her luggage to the room, saying, “The room is all set for you; I knew you’d come back.” She had no idea he prepared daily for her return.
That night, he brought out a jar filled with peas, smiling, “Not knowing how long you’d be gone, I put one in every day.” She counted through tears, 2196 peas. He was uneducated, couldn’t understand TV or calendars, and used this clumsy way to record her days away.
Those 2196 peas were 2196 thoughts, 2196 calls of love. She silently counted, holding them, tears falling to the ground.
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
