A Mechanical Clock

(Kar) In a hot summer afternoon, I was alone at home when I was a six-year-old child. There was a mechanical clock on the desk. Driven by curiosity, I wanted to gain insight into the clock how to work.
I dismantled a lock of the clock and was confident to restore it before my parents returned since I thought the job was easy to do. There were bits of metal on the desk after the clock was dismantled. Having a sense of self-accomplishment, I successfully took the clock apart and learnt the little hands of the clock were driven by the gears. However, I was faced with an insurmountable task of reassembling the clock because it did not work. Those curiously shaped pieces of metal also did not fit anywhere. I was anxious about it. Suddenly, hearing the footsteps of my father, I immediately kept hiding the metal pieces as well as the dead clock, not be noticed.
That evening, my father called me to the desk when I was watching TV. He asked me if I had done anything to the clock that day. I answered that I dismantled it as result of being curious how it worked. My father asked whether I failed to restore it and where all the pieces  were. “Yes, I did.” I replied. I did not know what to do but stood there as a criminal waiting for condemnation. Nevertheless, my father did not punish me but wrapping the bits of metal in a sheet of paper and put the paper parcel into a desk drawer. He softly placed his hand on my shoulder and said that he knew I could not restore it that day, so he would keep those things until I would fix it one day when I was able to.

Six years later, it was about I went to junior school. One afternoon, I found the clock in the drawer and the bits of metal wrapped in a white paper. Trying my best, I repaired the clock with a screwdriver. I spent the whole afternoon on making the clock until it was all right again. Besides, it is still on my desk. I feel my father had preserved not only a clock but also a child’s curious heart for all those years.

An Unforgettable Journey

(Kar) One holiday I went for a trip to Hangchow for visiting my younger sister who studied in a university there.

In a early morning, I took a taxi to the Hong Kong Port Area of the Shenzhen Bay Port. The taxi driver kindly advised me that I had to use a footbridge in the Shenzhen Bay Port before taking another taxi to the airport and should be on my guard at the Shenzhen Port Area where was an unsafe place for a woman alone in such early morning. I thanked for his advice. I not only took more care for my personal belongings to prevent them from being stolen but also paid careful attention to some strangers passing by. After leaving the Shenzhen Bay Port, I took a taxi to Shenzhen Bao’an International Airport to fly to Hangchow.

In Hangchow, my sister had an idea of visiting the beautiful West Lake by cycling. I agreed with her. It took an hour for a riding trip to West Lake. We enjoyed the beautiful scenery and took lots of photos there. However, having lost our bicycles when having lunch in a restaurant, we were unhappy. My sister asked a waiter for help. He said our bicycles had been placed in a car park next to the restaurant. We thanked a lot for his help. Yet, on the way back home, there was a traffic jam and a suden heavy rain. We were soaked.

When travelling home, I felt quite delighted and excited about the trip. I will never forget that journey because it was my first time riding on those busy roads in China.

My Grandmother

(Kar) I found a portrait of my grandmother in a small box at the bottom of a drawer. On her face in the photo, there was mild smile. Looking at the portrait, I recalled my thoughts of her life many years ago.

My grandmother was from a poor family and received schooling at a girls’ high school. After graduating from the school, she returned home. She wanted to go to college but her parents did not agree with her. However, her will was strong, not to be changed even though she could not achieve her dream.

A couple of years later, her parents arranged her marriage. She moved into my grandfather’s house in the countryside once she got married. After settling down there, she needed to work in the field. Yet, my grandmother did not get along with the women not having any education. She also did not become an artless village woman. She told me of a time when she was unhappy since her pride did not allow her to make friends with those people without any eduation. She spent her last days in a hospital as a result of feeling painful. The worst was that she could not breathe. Although she suffered from a serious illness, she still kept her pride of a woman having higher education even she was in the hospital. My grandmother not only got up early but also groomed her hair neatly. She kept her pride until the last moment.

In my memory, my grandmother is still alive as a woman with higher education. I feel her life was unhappy. Nevertheless, she always prided herself on getting a good education.