Rain and Dew Nourish the Heart

By Xian Qiting, Class 3, Junior Three, Shunde No.1 Middle School Experimental School, Shunde District, Foshan, Guangdong

That summer was scorching, with hardly a heavy rain to be had — how can I describe it? Perhaps like this: when I called at Mr. Wang's house, even the parrot in the hall, usually so chatty, fell silent.

From childhood I was playful, impatient and mischievous. Whenever Mother carried her stool out to sit chatting in the alley with the neighbors, she never failed to recount a few of my "misdeeds", sending everyone into roars of laughter; whenever they saw me they would tease me a little. They also knew that my teacher was Mr. Wang, a man of repute returned from studies abroad. "The boy has finally met his match in a teacher — lucky the teacher has tamed him, or else... there would be no peace in the world!" And then another burst of laughter.

That day, I was playing in the backyard of the teacher's house with his young cousin Xiao Muzi. Xiao Muzi's nature was the very opposite of mine — introverted. His face turned rosy at the slightest thing, and with his red lips and bright teeth he was an endearing little figure. I directed him — my own age but half a head shorter — to catch little cicadas for me, run errands, pick fruit from the trees... and the little fellow obeyed my every word.

Gleefully I clambered up the high wall, meaning to jump into the neighboring courtyard and show off before Xiao Muzi, whose clear eyes shone with sparkles like stars.

In two or three practiced moves I was up the wall, both hands braced against the mud brick — steady! But Xiao Muzi was uneasy, a thin sweat on his brow, and he urged me: "Ayuan, why don't you come down! What if something goes wrong..." I shouted back loudly, afraid he might not hear: "It's fine!" Then, gritting my teeth, I tried to swing up my other leg — and the next moment down I crashed with a thud. Lying on the ground, I cried out at the pain and then went numb; I only saw Xiao Muzi with his arms flung out as if to catch me, utterly frightened, and then he suddenly burst into loud sobs.

My hands and ankles were scraped raw; threads of blood marked the crumbled, weather-worn edge of the mud wall. The sweat on my face dripped onto my clothes, and beads of blood stained the white shirt. Alarmed, I gritted my teeth, scrambled up regardless of everything and rushed to cover Xiao Muzi's wide-open mouth, lest his crying bring the teacher — but it was already too late.

Sunlight fell on the gold wire rim of the teacher's spectacles, and the reflected golden edge made his whole figure seem solemn and sacred — only, in his hand was the cane that Xiao Muzi and I dreaded more than anything at that moment. Mr. Wang stood against the light, so we could not see his face, yet we understood perfectly well his anger. Xiao Muzi and I pressed our heads low. The teacher merely said, in his slightly hoarse voice: "Hold out your hands." Then the cane came down on my hand ever so lightly — like a leaf settling on one's head.

"Qingmu, go and fetch the medicine."

The teacher had me sit on the chair and bent down. With cotton he wiped away the blood and applied salve — brisk and deft through it all, and silent the whole time.

It was only much later, in a conversation with Mr. Wang, that he spoke of it: "Ayuan, at that moment I was afraid that if I opened my mouth I would only scold you. I thought that perhaps rebuke and reproach would do you no good — you should be a child who can see his own mistakes clearly. That one stroke of the cane was the only time I ever punished you — the first time, and the last."

I understood the teacher's painstaking care. Light as a feather though that stroke was, it is engraved upon my heart.

His teaching was like that rare rain of summer — it soothed my restless heart, and I can never forget it.

(Supervising teacher: Lin Liujun)