Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 5

Boundary of Love
British International School, Shanghai, Puxi (BISS Puxi), Jiang, Jenny – 13
A
bove the trees, the wind is howling deeply and loudly. It is a cold day of winter. Outside the window, it rains
heavily, raindrops hit the window hardly. Down the streets, there are rarely people walking. The erect street
lights stand lonely as if it was midnight. Empty, lonely, cold.
It is a rainy afternoon in 2017, as it is my 100 th birthday! But I am not so happy to celebrate my 100 th birthday, as
many people think that is so unique, but I have been through too much, and been through too many birthdays, so
the 100 th isn’t that surp rising to me. I was born on the 15 th of January 1917, in Shanghai. I walk over to my old draw
that I keep using it since 1948, take out a precious photo album with all my pretty memories and my love. I flip to
the first page, where I find a group photo with me in the middle, and many Jewish people surrounding me, we all
looked very happy, with a huge smile on our face. All at once I just break down and weep tears with joy. Then, I
looked up at the cloudy sky, and think about my legend life…
“Ding-Ding!” It was a fresh but cold morning in 1943, Shanghai. I began my morning with some famous breakfast
in Shanghai: Soybean milk, fried bread stick and steamed buns. These are the tradition of Old Shanghai that
everyone like, men, woman, children and the elders. Then I dressed myself and began my business. I was a rich
merchant who lived in a gigantic house with my lovely wife and 2 children.
Winter in Shanghai was especially cold, so I added an extra warm coat. The Jinrikisha was already waiting outside.
But just as I walked out of my front yard, I saw a young foreigner girl selling newspapers on the street but a men
passed and bumped into her, her newspapers all fall on the ground. She began to pick it up, but people passed by just
stepped on it. I couldn’t bear to watch it, so I walked over and picked the newspapers up for her. She thanked me,
but when she reached out her hand and tried to get the newspapers, I saw her hand was shivering hardly. When she
touched my hand, her hand was as cold as ice, and I noticed that she was wearing just a brown linen sundress and a
pair of old trainers. I asked “Would you mind going to and café with me?” She looked worried and scared but I
decided for her.
As we went in the café, it offered a warm current across her frozen fingers, and let her felt comfortable. I offered 2
cups of hot chocolates. I can tell that as she drinks the hot chocolate, it was like going to paradise. I watched her
finished the whole cup, hungrily and quickly. Then I began to ask eagerly “What was your name and where were
you from? Why were you wearing so little in winter? Where were your parents?” We broke down to silence for a
moment, but then she slowly started to speak “I am a Jew.” She burst into tears. Tears streamed down her cheeks and
dropped down. I signed. “My parents and I escaped from our homeland, Poland, of being killed by the monster,
Hitler. So luckily we were here. But we had nothing. No money, no clothes, no jobs. My mother died one day after
we arrived in Shanghai and now my father was really ill so I have to go to work to get money and save my father.”
She wept as she spoke. I felt really sorry for her, I tried to think of ways that I can help her. Then, I came up with a
new and challenging idea: To took her family to my house!
“What? A Jewish family to our house?” my wife said. “They were poor, no jobs, no money no clothes and they were
starving!” I shouted emotionally. My wife thought for a moment. And said “Actually, you know what, I felt really
sorry for them as well. You were such a caring person!” We together.