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7/30/2019 Serenity: The Lives my Mother and Grandmother lived: Part I
1/6
Serenity: The Lives my Mother and
Grandmother Lived
Part I
By You-Sheng Li
(From the book: The Ancient Chinese Super State of Primary societies: Taoist
Philosophy for the 21st Century
http://sd2cx1.webring.org/l/rd?ring=tao;id=16;url=http%3A%2F
%2Ftaoism21cen%2Ecom%2F)
(1) The Life My Mother Lived
At the supper table, my Mother suddenly collapsed in her seat and lost
consciousness. She died three days later her ninety third birthday, September 26, 2007.
Autumn drought occasionally hits this rural area of China which hinders sowing winter
wheat. Peasants had been worried that this year seemed to be one of those rare years.
Miraculously heavy rain poured down almost the same time my Mother passed away, and
it made farm work in the field impossible. The rain lasted several days but again
miraculously stopped the day of my Mother's funeral. Sodden farm fields still prevented
any entrance by peasants but the interment and its ceremony proved no problem at all as
the graveyard was grassland. There was not a single drop of rain though it was gloomy all
day. The local custom demands that no matter how urgent the farm work is, peasants
http://sd2cx1.webring.org/l/rd?ring=tao;id=16;url=http%3A%2F%2Ftaoism21cen.com%2Fhttp://sd2cx1.webring.org/l/rd?ring=tao;id=16;url=http%3A%2F%2Ftaoism21cen.com%2Fhttp://sd2cx1.webring.org/l/rd?ring=tao;id=16;url=http%3A%2F%2Ftaoism21cen.com%2Fhttp://sd2cx1.webring.org/l/rd?ring=tao;id=16;url=http%3A%2F%2Ftaoism21cen.com%2F7/30/2019 Serenity: The Lives my Mother and Grandmother lived: Part I
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have to stop for a funeral and no matter how horrible the weather is, a funeral has to be
carried out on time. Chinese peasants are no longer superstitious, but they couldn't help
uttering superstitious remarks on my Mother's funeral. They all said: what a nice lady!
Even at the time going to heaven, she did not forget bringing the much wanted rain to her
villagers and was reluctant to interrupt anybody's any farm work even for an hour.
Those remarks describe well the lives my Mother and grandmother had lived. The
popular serenity prayer says: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot
change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference. I
guess, it was the Chinese traditional culture that gave my mother and grandmother the
wisdom to accept whatever came in her life with serenity. Neither of them was born a
broad minded person, but they never cried. I only occasionally saw them shedding tears
silently. They never had any quarrel with anybody, and always yielded happily to other
people's needs. But in the end, they lived a life better than the average materialistically
and spiritually.
When I took English classes many years ago, our American teacher explained the
word sophisticated to us, saying, In comparison to the peasants who lived in the same
villages one generation after another, you are all sophisticated. It makes more sense if
we replace the word sophisticated with complex. We all live a more and more
complex life. The life has become so complex that our minds have to work continuously.
To rest is either buried into a fifty page newspaper or emerged into the images and
information of TV or Internet. Only after retirement, we realized that thoughtless
awareness or serenity is almost impossible to achieve.
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In the last twenty years or so, the life of Chinese peasants improved significantly.
Every time I went home, my Mother expressed her satisfaction with life nonstop. But the
words were more or less the same: how lucky I am to have such nice later years and not
have to worry about how to fill up my stomach and how to clothe my body. In fact, my
family never ran out of food or clothes. Even in the famine years, it was easy to get
substitute such as tree leaves and grass roots in the countryside. We never threw away
any cloth material even after many decades, and it thus was equally easy to keep us
warm. What my Mother referred to as worries concerning food and clothes were probably
related more to the rough social environment during her first seventy years. The family
was quiet and safe with enough supplies, but it was surrounded by an unsafe society in
turmoil. There were many wars before the late 1940s but there were many so-called
political movements afterwards. The dramatic steps taken by the Chinese leaders shortly
after Mao's death in 1976 were critical for the prosperity of the later years, but it was not
peaceful for those who went through them. Chinese society was relatively peaceful only
for the last twenty years or so.
The house I lived in as a child in the 1950s was all gone but remains in my
memory. We had a twelve room bungalow, three rooms situated on each side of a
rectangular courtyard. There were several secretive places built in for hiding and many
features of the house were designed to prevent invaders from getting in. My grandfather
joined a local network to co-ordinate efforts to protect the community against bandits and
robbers, who were numerous and powerful in those warring years. Grandmother often
complained: it was those years building this complex house that tired her into chronic
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bronchitis for life. Chinese peasants use the same word for tiredness and chronic lung
disorder, since they both make one short of breath.
Both my Mother's and father's families were relatively better off than the average
but their prosperity was really nothing in comparison to today's rich people. In 1993, I
met one of my cousins on the way home. He said, Wow, nowadays rich people are much
larger and richer than the landlords and the capitalists we have confiscated and
suppressed. That's only a few years after the new policy was in place. The rich people
my cousin referred to had only twenty or thirty thousand Chinese dollars, equal to some
three or four thousands in Canadian dollars. But they are richer than the landlords who
might have been executed for their possessions.
My village has a fair every five days for peasants to sell and buy their farm
produce. When I was in the elementary school, my Mother once suggested to me that I
should go to the fair and look for dropped watermelon and sunflower seeds. She said, the
children of her parents' home often did so and brought home handfuls of seeds to share
with the whole family. I never tried as my Mother suggested. Those poor peasants might
be reluctant to pick up one or two seeds, but they will certainly bend over to pick them up
if they drop a few. I might have had to fix my eyes on others' heels for days to get a
handful of seeds.
Both my Mother's and father's families had, however, their property confiscated
during the political movement of the Land Reform. The slogan to guide this campaign
was: sweep them out of their houses like rubbish. One day our courtyard was full of
people carrying everything away. As Children had no toys in those years, I remember
colourful objects that appealed to a child's eyes being taken away by young peasants. For
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days, we had nothing left except the clothes on our bodies. I followed my sister who was
a few years older than me to beg for food door by door. We stood under the window, and
begging, Granny, Granny, be kind enough to share with the hunger people a mouthful of
solid food. The solid food we got was nothing but steamed corn pastry, a mouthful a
door if we were lucky. My father was in prison. My family, headed by the only two adult
women, my Mother and Grandmother, gathered together to share a meal, each picking up
a mouthful of solid food we had begged. We all stood in the dark room, since we had no
light and no chairs. Grandmother and Mother suddenly had a great idea. They have
dragged away everything except a huge jar of pickling turnips that they couldn't move so
they sealed it. We stole some out to everybody. The next day Grandmother and Mother
asked one of my grown-up cousins, who happened to be poor, to come and have a look at
the jar and told him: I accidentally broke the seal while playing around there. So much
salt was put in that it tasted exactly like salt itself. Such awful food was out the table of
Chinese people some twenty years ago.
One characteristic of those political movements led by the Chinese Communist
Party was that they always overdid it first and corrected the overdone parts later. The
confiscation of my family's property was deemed to be a mistake. They returned most of
the seized properties back to us. Years later, I read Mao's article, titled How to Classify
Different Classes. It was the guidelines for the Land Reform. According to Mao's criteria,
which was based on how much land and how many helping hands one family had, the
confiscation of my family's property was indeed a mistake.
A few days ago, former president Jimmy Carter said, Obama should not take
Hillary Clinton as his running partner to the presidency, and vice versa. Thus the social
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division into two parts fighting against each other for whatever reason it may be,
generates hatred that cannot be conciliated easily. Those Chinese Communist political
movements all left such long lasting effects. The many villagers who classified my family
as a class enemy returned us the property they took away but kept saying that we were
the class enemy. They kept writing such letters to the schools I went to. It caused me
serious trouble when I was in junior and senior high school. I had to keep my head low in
front of other students. After I went to the University of Beijing, the teachers there had a
much clearer mind. They treated such letters as pure nonsense. The mentor of our
medical school class, a dashing young man, was so open-minded that he shared some of
those letters with me. I am sure that those villagers, if still alive today, hold the same
view: our family was indeed part of the enemy class to the country and to the people
because of our scanty possessions.