(Photographer: An Hejie. Market Place, Town of Chifeng, Inner Mongolia)
Beyond the northern (Inner Mongolia) frontier, spring has arrived but the cold weather lingered on. Snow fell on this April morning. Flakes danced in the sky. A middle-aged man tended to his cart, on which sat a little boy, wrapped up with blanket used to keep the vegetables from freezing. From time to time, the father would tuck at the blanket to make sure that his son was all right. These are the words from the photographer: “Set in the dark and shadowy background and the dancing snow flakes, the pink puffy face of the little boy stood out in great contrast to that of the father which was apparently shaped by the caprices of life. And life was indeed harsh. Father and son only have each other for support. When the father yelled out a sales pitch on top of his voice, his facial expression was shockingly touching. One cannot help but be moved.”
The father and his son live in an impoverished hilly area. They demand nothing but a piece of land to call their own. Perhaps they will not have a chance to see the outside world all their lives — they will not know what a staircase is, they will never ride in a taxi, nor will they ever step into a movie theater. But the truth is these are the people who offer us everything our lives depend on, generation after generation. The heaven and earth have nothing to repay them. Love them! At least respect them in your heart. Otherwise how can we possibly talk about ourselves as human beings?
(That day, we found that we were able to attend school. We were so happy. But grandpa cried. Do you understand? The tears of an elderly man…) This semester has been dealt with, what about the next?
Your elderly mother and little children are waiting for you to come home with the day’s wages.
The old man sells roast yam for a living. Because he doesn’t have a license, his tools were confiscated and his tricycle was smashed, its chain cut. All the old man can do is to sit there and cry. Tomorrow.
Mothers and their child.
This is life.
Wang Zhizhong worked as a coal carrier. Carrying a basket of coal weighting 40kg (88 lb), he made his way up a 100m deep mine, and then walked a distance of 1000m along a mountainous track. For each trip, he made 1RMB (0.125 USD). He was 17.
That day the English teacher arrived in our village. She taught us our very first sentence in English: “I want go to school.”
Did you hear it? It is a most heart-moving cry.
We must admit that there are people still living within the blind spot of our society. What if you were one of them?
No rose, no diamond ring, but if this is not love, what is love?
With enthusiasm, love your life! Love the people around you!