Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 150

velvet jacket and skirt, her skinny frame stood ready to embrace us in her waiting arms. My Grandfather stood close
by, one arm around his wife, another extended to wave as he smiled.
“Come to Grandma, Bella!” Grandma sang, crouching down as I tottered towards this kindly lady who I loved more
than words could ever express. Unless you have had the privilege of hugging my Grandma, you have never
experienced what it feels like to be truly happy, and have warmness creeping into your heart. Anyhow, later that
night, Grandma and Grandpa told us the stories of when they had walked through the streets of main Shanghai, and
seen all the many temples, statues and offerings.
However, looking around now, all I can see are expensive tourist attractions and hurried business men and women.
The man in front of me, Mr Lok Chang, is the manager of the building project due to take place on the Temple my
grandparents loved so. Perhaps he’ll hear me if I shout loud enough?
“Sorry - Mr Chang over here?” I repeat, frantically waving my hands to receive his attention. Slowly, the Chinese
millionaire spins his head towards me. Judgingly, he eyes me up and down and laughs.
“Sorry dear, I haven't any candy on me.” He mutters, then takes a long stride into the distance.
“Please Mr Chang! I only wanted to ask about your new project… Why must it take place?” I plead, shoving a path
through the opposing crowd. The man stops, allowing me in turn to stop and catch my breath. Then, with a swift
movement, the man looks me directly in the eyes.
“Because, child, Shanghai is a growing city, we have no need for useless temples anymore! We'd be far better off
with a few more shops,” He concludes, raising his hand when I open my mouth, “Now go find your mother.”
“This isn't the last you'll see of me!” I shout, teary eyed and emotional. So what if I was a child? I could make a
difference. I will make a difference!
*****
“Well what would you say!” I grin to myself, my four-year-old grandson staring up at me with big, round eyes.
“Whad is id Gwanny?” He mumbles, his gorgeous lisp cradling his speech.
“Look at this Jimmy. Can you see the big letters on my