This is a story about an impoverished family. Just when the son entered elementary school, his father passed away. The mother and son supported each other and gently laid the father to rest in a mound of earth.
The mother did not remarry. She worked tirelessly to raise her son. At that time, the village had no electricity, and every evening, the son studied and wrote under the light of an oil lamp while she sewed quietly, stitching her love into his clothes. Day after day, year after year, as the walls became covered with his certificates, the son grew tall and strong like spring bamboo. Looking at her son, who was now taller than her, his mother’s eyes crinkled with joy.
Her son is accepted into a top high school
When the trees all over the mountain were showing signs of autumn, her son was accepted into the county’s top high school. However, the mother had developed severe rheumatism and could no longer do farm work. Sometimes, they didn’t even have enough to eat.
At that time, every student at the high school had to bring 30 pounds of rice each month for the cafeteria. The son knew his mother couldn’t provide it, so he said: “Mother, I want to drop out and help you with the farm work.” The mother, stroking his head lovingly, replied: “I’m glad you have such a thought, but you must continue your studies. Don’t worry; since I brought you into this world, I will find a way to support you. Go to school first, and I will bring the rice later.”
The son stubbornly said no. His mother again urged him to go. He still refused. With a rough hand, she gave him a hard slap across his face. It was the first time her 16-year-old son had ever been hit. Finally, the son went to school. Watching his departing figure, his mother fell into silent contemplation.
The mother brings mixed rice to the cafeteria
Not long after, the county high school’s cafeteria welcomed the mother, who arrived late with a bag of rice on her shoulder, limping in. The man in charge of weighing and registering the rice, Master Xiong, opened the bag and took a handful of rice, his brows furrowing. “You parents always try to take advantage,” he said. “Look, there’s early rice, late rice, and fine rice all mixed together. You’ve turned our cafeteria into a mixed rice bin.”
The mother blushed with embarrassment and apologized repeatedly. Master Xiong, seeing her embarrassment, took the rice without further comment. She then took out a small cloth bag and said: “Master, this is 5 yuan, my son’s living expenses for the month. Please give it to him.” Master Xiong took the bag and heard the clinking of coins inside. Jokingly, he asked: “What, are you selling tea eggs on the street?” She blushed again, thanked him, and limped away.
At the beginning of the next month, the mother returned with another bag of rice. Master Xiong opened it and frowned again; it was still mixed rice. He thought perhaps he hadn’t explained clearly last time, so he told her: “We accept all kinds of rice, but the types must be separated. Otherwise, it’s hard to cook, and the rice will be undercooked. If you bring mixed rice again, I won’t accept it.”
The mother pleaded: “Master, all our rice is like this. What should I do?” Master Xiong, both amused and frustrated, asked: “Does your one-acre field grow a hundred kinds of rice? That’s impossible.” The mother, afraid to say anything more, left in silence.
In the third month, she came again with mixed rice. This time, Master Xiong lost his temper and shouted: “Why are you so stubborn? It’s still mixed rice! You bring it today, and you take it back the same way!” The mother, as if expecting this, knelt before him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Master, I must tell you the truth. This rice is begged from others.” Master Xiong was stunned, and was speechless for a long time.
The mother sat on the ground, rolling up her pants to reveal her swollen, misshapen legs. She wiped her tears and explained: “I have advanced rheumatism. Even walking is difficult, let alone farming. My son, understanding the situation, wanted to drop out to help me, but I insisted he continue his studies. I’ve kept this a secret from our neighbors, and I’m afraid my son will lose his self-esteem if he finds out. Every day before dawn, I sneak to a village 10 miles away to beg for rice and return after dark. I gather the begged rice and bring it here each month.”
The mother shares her story
The mother’s words left Master Xiong in tears. He helped her up and said: “You are a great mother. I will tell the principal and arrange for the school to help your family.” She hurriedly shook her head: “No, if my son knows I’m begging to support his education, it will destroy his self-esteem. It’s not good for his studies. I appreciate your kindness, but please keep this a secret.”
The principal eventually learned about the situation and quietly waived the son’s tuition and living expenses for three years under the special hardship student category. Three years later, the son scored very high on the college entrance exam and was admitted to Tsinghua University. On the day of the graduation celebration, the county high school was filled with drumbeats. The principal invited the mother’s son to the stage.
Puzzled, the son wondered why he was the only one being honored when several students had high scores. What’s even more strange was that there were three bulging bags piled up on the stage. At this point, Master Xiong came on stage and told the story of a mother begging for rice for her son to go to school. The audience was in complete silence. The principal pointed to the three bags and said emotionally: “These are the three bags of rice that the mother in the story begged for. They are priceless. Now, let’s welcome this great mother to the stage.”
The son turned and saw Master Xiong helping his mother slowly make her way to the stage. The mother and son looked at each other. Her eyes were warm and soft, her graying hair falling loosely over her forehead. Her son rushed forward, embracing her tightly and sobbing: “Mother, my dear mother…”
Translated by cecilia
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