From my diary
June 14, 1992
Henry and Julie – Siblings’ Love
William Shih-Chieh Hung
My grandson Henry Lo is 9 and half years old; his sister Julie is 4 years and 2 months old. So pure and precious is their love for each other that it deserves to be documented.
Just like other children, the two of them would sometimes fight for the last piece of bubble gum. A few months ago, Henry broke his left ankle bone while at school, and even before he’s fully recovered (and with his cast still on) he would secretly play baseball, basketball, and even ride bikes with our neighbor’s kids, so intolerable was his boredom from the injury. The hours after school is out coincide with rush hour, with many cars on the roads, so riding a bicycle during that time can be quite dangerous. Of course, the adults in the family wouldn’t let him, but because he’s so energetic and active, it’s hard for us to be so harsh and controlling on him, so we would let him play outside with certain limits. Every time Henry is out playing, his sister would worry sick about him. She would always ask me (or other adults in the family), “Do you think my brother will hurt himself?” She’s well aware of the limitations we place on Henry but she’s still not entirely relieved, so she would watch his brother ride his bike by the doorstep. It’s not that she wants to join him, but rather that she wants to make sure that he’s ok, so that she doesn’t have to wonder about his wellness while she’s stuck inside. Henry even knows how to dodge the cars but not Julie, she is still so young, we adults don’t really feel completely safe about her wandering by the front door. We would try to persuade her to come back inside to no avail. If we force her to stay inside then she would cry in secret. Even when Henry tried to help us adults by persuading her to stay indoors and assuring her that he will be fine, the efforts were useless. If we force Henry not to ride his bike, then tears would fill his eyes: Since all the neighbors’ kids were having fun on their bikes, why can’t he do the same? As a result, my wife Susie and I had no choice but to take turns watching the two of them by the front door. Our own mental conditions are similar to Julie’s. I sacrificed my painting time for our grandchildren’s satisfaction. The truth is that I love our house’s front porch, with the maple tree’s leaves blocking the sun and the green bamboo growing in strength. They were both planted with my own hands so I have a particular affinity to them. Then there were the red pomegranate flowers; they simply elicit joy the moment you set your eyes on them. Arguing among my grandchildren actually forces me to wander more among this green corner of the house, which surely benefits the wellness of my body.
A few days ago, I was driving Henry home from school and we took a detour to a convenience store on our way back to buy something. He wanted to buy a small container with six candies inside (Those candies must have some kind of a special flavor, since he’s not too fond of sweets). When we got home, Julie asked her brother to give her a candy. Since there were only a few left, Henry only gave her sister one. When Julie asked for another candy after eating the first one, Henry refused her request with a loud, resounding “No”. Julie was on the verge of crying so Henry had no choice but to give her another candy, while also reminding her that this will indeed be the last one. I was painting in my own room, yet I could hear every word they said. After a while, Julie wanted yet another candy, and this time they started arguing. When Henry started yelling “But JULIE!” I had no choice but to put down my brushes and came out to the living room to diffuse the tension. I saw the craving yet pitiful looks on Julie’s face, so I said to Henry, “Just give your sister another one”. He replied with his eyebrows frowning, “But this is the last one.” This put me in a difficult situation; after all, Henry is also a kid too, so how can I force him to give up this last piece of delicious candy? So I turned to Julie and tried to convince her to give it up but, having tasted the sweetness of the candy, she would not budge and even started crying. Plenty of tasty food in the cabinets and the refrigerator but all they wanted was this “precious” piece of candy. And granted, this candy may not even be that yummy, but it’s the scarceness of it that causes both of them to stubbornly cherish it. In the end, I told Henry sensibly but also firmly, “Since you’re the big brother, let your little sister have it.” Upon hearing that, he turned to face the television as he sat on the carpet, with his back leaning on the front of the sofa, looking upset. With not a word and barely turning around, he reluctantly raised his left arm and threw the last piece of candy into the lap of her sister, who was sitting to his right. And with that, the “tempest” was officially over. But, deep down in my heart, I admired Henry’s demeanor. Similarly, there were countless incidents between the two of them like this one that show their affection for each other.
In our current society, it’s very common to have brothers and sisters who treat each other like strangers, not to mention family members becoming sworn enemies. I plead with all of you who have siblings to not just rely on your significant other’s hearsay, or become estranged to your relatives over money. Even if your brother or sister may have done something so wrong so as to reach the “unforgivable” level, you must remember this: The childhood that you spent together must have filled with love and intimacy, and you must have cared for each other deeply, just like Henry and Julie. Therefore, you must not “Burn the beanstalks to boil the beans” and “Fry so eagerly”.
Addendum:
Cao Pi, Emperor Wen of the Han Dynasty, used his imperial power to repress his brother Cao Zhi out of jealousy, and forced him to compose a poem within seven steps, or face execution. With his quick mind and talents, Cao Zhi was able to come up with a poem within seven paces, and that “Seven Steps Verse” poem became one of the most famous in Chinese history:
People burn the beanstalks to boil beans, filtering them to extract the juice
As the beanstalks burn under the cauldron, all the beans in the pot wail:
“We were grown from the same root, why do you fry us so eagerly?”
Both my daughter and my son-in-law work in the daytime, so I drive my grandchildren to school for their convenience.
William Shih-Chieh Hung, writing from the San Francisco East Bay area
