大思的随笔手帐

( Assignment:  describe your home) Last year grandma and grandpa wanted to build a new house. And they wanted to do it on the same ground. I was there when the workers came and tore the old house down. And suddenly it got so sentimental. Something hot was crumbling in my chest and wet my eyes. I didn't exactly grow up here, but the house did contain the most free days I had in my childhood, and protected me when storms came (I lived here during SARS). Our house is a traditional Beijing quadrangle, but not exactly typical, because of the missing west wing-room. But that gave grandma more space for gardening, and we had fresh vegetables every season. She also grew a little apricot tree at the northwest corner, just in front on the west side room. Every summer, the tree will bear so many fruits that they fall down on the  ground. And I used to sit on the thick, cold quartzite stairs in front of the house, under that apricot tree, looking at the blue clear sky. Families woul

( Assignment : write about the sharpest memory from your childhood) I was standing under that sparse willow tree in front of the hospital, waving and shuddering, as I saw that bus of Red Cross take my mother away. I can feel my father’s arm around me, and he hugged me tighter and tighter as the bus receded. Warm wind of the late spring was fiddling with my eyelash. And finally in the bustle of the see off crowds, I couldn’t help but burst into tears. The year was 2003, when SARS swept across China and the whole world, the disease made Beijing deathly still, losing its luster and vitality in old days. People smelled death and panic in the air. But my mother, a dedicate and experienced nurse, volunteered to be in part of a medical team that fight against SARS in Beijing XiaoTangShang hospital(which is, during that time, the only hospital for diagnosed severe patients from the whole city). And I was only ten years old. I can still remember the big red and white bus, driving of

( Assignment : write about your first impression about the US) “It’s official, I’m now in the United States of America.” I thought, when I was sitting in the cabin on my own, looking down at the New York city saturated in the golden twilight. The city was glowing. Exhausted but still alert, I started to check my bags under the front seat. It was only half hour to our landing and I barely even slept. The plane was steady, but my mind wasn’t. I tried to run through the immigration procedure over and over again in my head in case missing anything important. I followed the crowds to the customs, said good bye to the nice gentleman who was sitting next to me on the flight and helped me with my form, and I waited in the line. No hard interrogations, no bag-checking. “so far so good.” I said to myself. After I found my enormous suitcase – I’ve never traveled with such a huge luggage before – I went to the exit of the terminal, searching for my uncle’s figure. “He should b