Newsletter (2017-2018) April 2018 Newsletter | Page 9

Being Independent
By Mon Zhang
Counting the unnoticeable days that pass, seeing
the number of our birthday candles rise, trying
on our suits and trying to put on our make-up––
that’s what we consider growing up. But then,
we still ask parents to do everything for us, we
cry and complain when we encounter difficul-
ties because we have no idea how to solve these
problems ourselves. We still need help all the
time.
that I could go for the jungle-like maze in the
park. He then went for the tickets, and maybe
because I was so happy, I was bouncing around
enthusiastically while running there, causing me
to suddenly sprain my ankle.
I couldn’t move. The sun was shining intensely,
and I crouched down, holding my ankle, painful-
ly and nervously crying, without knowing what
to do next. My face was covered by the mixture
of sweat and tears, desper ately waiting for Dad
to come back. That was one moment in which I
profoundly felt that I needed someone’s help, I
knew I couldn’t handle this problem by myself.
After around 10 minutes, I saw Dad running to
me. He was so happy that he got the tickets be-
cause there was a huge line of people waiting
for them; but sadly I couldn’t run into him––I
was still crouching on the ground, trying too
hard not to cry out loud. He then came closer to
me, saw my ankle, and consoled me with sweet
words. I still couldn’t stop crying, but I magical-
ly didn’t feel scared anymore. I felt fortunate to
be immersed in parent’s care and love.
And that’s the moment when I feel we made it
all wrong, we mixed up the terms of growing old
and growing up. The former can be shown from
our appearance, from how we dress ourselves in
a mature way, while the latter one focuses more
on our inner side, the way we think, the way we
handle our problems, but most importantly, how
we do everything by ourselves.
Just a few days before the Easter holiday, I ac-
cidently slipped off rocks while hiking on Kau
Keng Shan, Tuen Mun. My foot ankle swelled
like a bun, which hurt so much that I couldn’t
move. While I was sitting there, wondering how
to get off the mountain with my injured foot, a
childhood memory came to me.
Many years later, I then realized it wasn’t the
painful ankle that made me cry––it was the
It was a typical summer day, the sun was shining dread of facing and solving problems by myself.
so hard and the constant heat made everyone The fear of being alone, the fear of not being able
sweaty and fidgety. I couldn’t remember exactly to ask anyone for help, the fear of undertaking
how old I was that time, but I think I was already all the risks by my own.
in primary school. Dad took me to a park, and
after I asked him many times, he finally agreed Around 10 years had passed, but as I faced the
7
APRIL 2018