By Tina Sue Yip
The author (aged 13 and living in China at the time) drew this picture for her then-5-year-old sister who was living in the United States with the parents.
Dear Mother,
Do you know what it feels like waiting for your monthly letters these past three years? Whenever I hear the postman coming up the village road, I rush to the door. Instead of getting words from you, I often receive reprimand from Grandma for neglecting my chores. Today, she hit my palms with a bamboo twig for not watching the porridge. My hands are now aching from scrubbing the burnt rice off the pot.
The humid summer has passed and the weather is getting cooler. I turned 13 a few days ago. You usually send a card or a letter – along with money for my siblings and me – but I guess the postman is a little slow this year. On my birthday, Grandma prepared lots of food and allowed me to neglect a few chores. It was a nice day!
My little brothers and sisters are doing well. I make sure that they go to school and stay out of trouble. Grandma and Uncle are doing well too. Uncle made us promise not to tell Grandma that he has quitted school and is working as an office messenger. He is coming home really late and tired, we are praying Grandma doesn’t figure it out.
How is MùihMúi? How tall is she now? I am sure she is growing bigger and stronger. She will be five years old soon. What does she want for her birthday? Enclosed is a picture I drew for her.
How is BàhBā? Is he feeling better? You mentioned in the last letter that BàhBā got sick working several jobs to support us.Hopefully, he is healthier now. Does he miss his children in China? Please tell BàhBā that we all miss him dearly. Younger Brother still cries for BàhBā.
While it has been a week since he last cried, Younger Brother still refuses to sleep in his own bed. I don’t mind that he insists on sleeping with me. But, I am sad when he cries.
Mother, when can I move to America to live with you, BàhBā, and MùihMúi? You wrote two years ago that I would be able to leave when I turn 12. I am 13 now. Where are you? Are you still coming for me and my siblings?
It is difficult to sit here waiting. My classmates are calling me a liar when I tell them that I will be moving to America. They are comparing me and my siblings to discarded newspapers left on a bus bench. Mother, I don’t believe them! But, I do wish you would send for us soon.
The money is good and very helpful. We are saving some to buy food for Grandma’s upcoming birthday. She is going to be 80 and still takes care of the farm, the house and us.
I want to be with my parents, not wait endlessly in this village! Grandma keeps reminding me: be patient with your struggling parents; they are working hard to remit money home; and they will send for you as soon as they save enough. I don’t want to be patient! I am tired of working on the farm and being called a liar. I just want to be with you, BàhBā, and MùihMúi.
Where are you, Mother? Have you forgotten your two older daughters and two sons? Are we still in your thoughts and memories? What about BàhBā?
Does he remember us? I pray each day that you would send for us. I miss you very much and hope you have not forgotten us!
Love,
Your Oldest Daughter
About the Author: Tina Sue Yip is the oldest of five children to immigrant parents who have struggled in a rural desert of Southern California. A recent (2015) UCLA graduate, she is looking forward to pursuing pharmacy or medical schools. She has a love and passion for helping /educating others on mental health, domestic violence, and sexual assault issues.
