Falling Leaves: The True Story of an Unwanted Chinese Daughter by Adeline Yen Mah Page B
Authors: Adeline Yen Mah
Tags: General, Social Science, Asia, Medical, History, Biography & Autobiography, California, Biography, Ethnic Studies, Physicians, Women physicians, Women, china, Customs & Traditions, China - Social life and customs, Chinese Americans, Chinese Americans - California - Biography, Mah; Adeline Yen, California - Biography, Women Physicians - California - Biography
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extolled his accomplishments to Ye Ye and Aunt Baba. Fearing a loss of face, Baba did not mention the true reason behind her request. To protect his son from public censure, Ye Ye had bidden Aunt Baba never to reveal the truth.
Between father and son, the subject of money was never discussed again. Aunt Baba returned to work. On pay days, she took her salary in cash and placed half the bank notes in the upper left drawer of Ye Yes writing desk. This was the only money Ye Ye had at his disposal to make his modest purchases of candies, tobacco and Chinese herbs, to visit a doctor, have a haircut, eat at a restaurant or buy his grandchildren an occasional toy.
They lived in an atmosphere of constant uneasiness. Niang made it all too clear that they were there on sufferance. For the sake of appearance she always showed them a smiling face but they sensed the contempt beneath the mask. Far from enjoying a dignified and peaceful retirement, Ye Ye was given a roof over his head, three meals a day and nothing else. Father never visited the second floor. When Niang entertained at home, Aunt Baba and Ye Ye were expected to stay upstairs in their rooms, just like the rest of us stepchildren. The servants took their cues from the mistress of the house: those favoured by Niang turned bold and insolent.
For Ye Ye, life became increasingly lonely. Although visits from friends were not forbidden, Niang succeeded in making them feel so uncomfortable behind a veneer of politeness that they gradually ceased coming altogether.
He spent his time reading and practising calligraphy. Once he wrote the character & ren (endure). He instructed Aunt Baba to study the word. Divide & ren (endure) into its two components, top and bottom. The top component, 77 dao, means knife, but it has a sheath in the centre of the rapier. The bottom component, xin means heart. Combined to-76
gether, the word is telling us a story. Though my son is wounding my heart, I shall ensheath the pain and live through it. To me, the word S ren (endure) represents the epitome of Chinese culture and civilization. Aunt Baba looked at the word and saw the pain and fury evident in each stroke of the brush. Ye Ye did not display his beautiful calligraphy on the wall for fear of offending Niang.
My elder sister Lydia did not excel in school. With her handicapped left arm, her prospects were not promising. Father and Niang feared for her future. They decided to arrange an early marriage. On their next visit to Tianjin they took Lydia and introduced her to Samuel Sung.
Samuel was the younger son of our family doctor in Tianjin. He was a graduate of the University of Tianjin with a degree in engineering. He taught for a few years and then obtained a masters degree from Purdue University in Indiana. In 1948, he returned from America and was looking for a wife. He was already thirty-one years old, three years older than Niang. He was five feet three inches tall, had a large, rapidly balding head, small, shifty eyes and eyebrows that pointed upwards, giying him a somewhat sinister appearance. His lips were tilted lopsidedly in a perpetual half grin. Though not exactly an oil painting, he was soft-spoken and well educated.
I remember Lydia talking happily about her impending marriage to Samuel and doodling her future married name of Mrs Samuel Sung over and over on a sheet of paper, in English and Chinese.
Many years later, Lydia gave this version of events leading to her engagement which painted a very different picture.
When I was seventeen Father called me to their bedroom to have a long talk with me. They told me to go in front of the mirror and look at myself. When I did not understand what they meant (because I looked every day at the mirror and did not find anything unusual),
77
they asked me to look closely at my left hand, which was deformed due to Erbs palsy and which I thought was not my fault.
Father said, You are now reaching the age of marriage and we have
Between father and son, the subject of money was never discussed again. Aunt Baba returned to work. On pay days, she took her salary in cash and placed half the bank notes in the upper left drawer of Ye Yes writing desk. This was the only money Ye Ye had at his disposal to make his modest purchases of candies, tobacco and Chinese herbs, to visit a doctor, have a haircut, eat at a restaurant or buy his grandchildren an occasional toy.
They lived in an atmosphere of constant uneasiness. Niang made it all too clear that they were there on sufferance. For the sake of appearance she always showed them a smiling face but they sensed the contempt beneath the mask. Far from enjoying a dignified and peaceful retirement, Ye Ye was given a roof over his head, three meals a day and nothing else. Father never visited the second floor. When Niang entertained at home, Aunt Baba and Ye Ye were expected to stay upstairs in their rooms, just like the rest of us stepchildren. The servants took their cues from the mistress of the house: those favoured by Niang turned bold and insolent.
For Ye Ye, life became increasingly lonely. Although visits from friends were not forbidden, Niang succeeded in making them feel so uncomfortable behind a veneer of politeness that they gradually ceased coming altogether.
He spent his time reading and practising calligraphy. Once he wrote the character & ren (endure). He instructed Aunt Baba to study the word. Divide & ren (endure) into its two components, top and bottom. The top component, 77 dao, means knife, but it has a sheath in the centre of the rapier. The bottom component, xin means heart. Combined to-76
gether, the word is telling us a story. Though my son is wounding my heart, I shall ensheath the pain and live through it. To me, the word S ren (endure) represents the epitome of Chinese culture and civilization. Aunt Baba looked at the word and saw the pain and fury evident in each stroke of the brush. Ye Ye did not display his beautiful calligraphy on the wall for fear of offending Niang.
My elder sister Lydia did not excel in school. With her handicapped left arm, her prospects were not promising. Father and Niang feared for her future. They decided to arrange an early marriage. On their next visit to Tianjin they took Lydia and introduced her to Samuel Sung.
Samuel was the younger son of our family doctor in Tianjin. He was a graduate of the University of Tianjin with a degree in engineering. He taught for a few years and then obtained a masters degree from Purdue University in Indiana. In 1948, he returned from America and was looking for a wife. He was already thirty-one years old, three years older than Niang. He was five feet three inches tall, had a large, rapidly balding head, small, shifty eyes and eyebrows that pointed upwards, giying him a somewhat sinister appearance. His lips were tilted lopsidedly in a perpetual half grin. Though not exactly an oil painting, he was soft-spoken and well educated.
I remember Lydia talking happily about her impending marriage to Samuel and doodling her future married name of Mrs Samuel Sung over and over on a sheet of paper, in English and Chinese.
Many years later, Lydia gave this version of events leading to her engagement which painted a very different picture.
When I was seventeen Father called me to their bedroom to have a long talk with me. They told me to go in front of the mirror and look at myself. When I did not understand what they meant (because I looked every day at the mirror and did not find anything unusual),
77
they asked me to look closely at my left hand, which was deformed due to Erbs palsy and which I thought was not my fault.
Father said, You are now reaching the age of marriage and we have
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