North Family Letters

Summer in Northeast China is just beginning, and the wind still carries the coolness of the black soil.

The Song family was living a stable life. Chunyan earned a wage at the factory, Qiuling did needlework to earn pocket money, Xiaoman managed the household well, and Xiaoya was becoming more and more sensible at school. Every two weeks, the army would send a letter of peace, which became the sound the whole family looked forward to the most.

But no one expected that the mother's health would suddenly collapse.

That morning, as soon as my mother picked up the bowl of porridge, her hand went limp and the bowl almost fell to the ground.

His face was as white as paper, his forehead was covered in cold sweat, he couldn't straighten his back, and he was having trouble breathing.

Startled, Chunyan quickly put down her work and helped her mother lie down on the kang (a heated brick bed).

Xiahe ran to fetch a doctor, Qiuling boiled water, Dongxue stayed by the kang (heated brick bed) too afraid to move, Xiaoman busied herself finding medicine, and Xiaoya clutched her mother's clothes, crying softly, "Mother, don't be sad..."

After taking Chunyan's pulse, the doctor sighed and called her aside:

"Your mother is exhausted, worn out, and stressed. She's been worrying and anxious all year round, and then she had to travel all the way back from Yunnan. Her energy and blood are already depleted. This time it was a sudden attack of anger. She can't overwork herself anymore; she needs to rest and have someone take care of her closely."

One sentence silenced the entire courtyard.

With Mother lying down, the family suddenly lost its pillar of support.

Chunyan works during the day and stays up all night; Xiahe runs home as soon as she gets off school to cook and feed her mother medicine; Qiuling stops sewing to take care of her mother's daily life; Dongxue learns to boil water and do laundry; Xiaoman saves all the fine grains in the house to cook the softest porridge for her mother; Xiaoya no longer runs around after school and sits quietly by the kang (a heated brick bed) to keep her mother company.

During that period, the family photo on the kang (a heated brick bed) became the mother's only solace.

When she was awake, she would look at her father in the photo wearing a military uniform, her eyes soft, but she would not utter a word of bitterness.

The sisters saw it all and felt the pain in their hearts, but none of them dared to mention the words "I miss your dad".

Just when things were getting the hardest and most agonizing at home, the second letter from the army arrived.

The letter was thicker than usual, and the envelope was stamped with a bright red postmark.

Chunyan's hands trembled as she opened the package and read it aloud to her mother, word by word—

In the letter, the father said:

After the military reorganization was completed, he faced retirement and demobilization.

The organization gave two options:

One option is to stay in the local area and be assigned a job with good benefits and stability.

Secondly, he applied for demobilization and returned to his hometown, but his job was uncertain, and he had to start all over again.

In the letter, my father wrote:

"After learning about everything at home, I couldn't sleep at night."

If my wife is seriously ill and my daughter is still young, I, as her husband and father, can no longer stay far away.

I have submitted an application to my superiors, voluntarily giving up my relocation to another region and transferring back to Northeast China to return home.

"I'll accept any job assigned to me, as long as I can stay with you all and protect this family."

Before the letter was even finished being read, the mother, who was lying on the kang (a heated brick bed), suddenly burst into tears.

It wasn't sadness, but rather the pent-up grievances, worries, and expectations that had been bottled up for so long, all of which surged out at this moment.

Chunyan held the letter, her hands trembling.

Xia He covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

Qiu Ling, Dong Xue, and Xiao Man all had tears in their eyes.

Xiao Ya lay on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), gently touching her mother's face: "Mom, Dad is coming back... Dad is really coming back."

The mother nodded gently, her voice weak, yet incredibly firm:

"When...when your dad comes back, our family will truly be complete."

That evening, Xiaoman cooked another pot of hot rice porridge and fed her mother a small half bowl.

The dim light illuminated a room full of sensible girls, a sick but at ease mother, and the ever-warm family portrait on the kang (heated brick bed).

What I was waiting for was peace.

What we are waiting for now is for the return of our loved ones.

No matter how cold the wind is in Northeast China,

As soon as Father stepped through the door

This home is now completely warm.

With careful nurturing, life slowly moves towards warmth.

After lying in bed for almost half a month, with Chunyan and her sisters taking turns watching over her, feeding her soup and medicine, and heating the kang (a heated brick bed) to keep her warm, her complexion became rosier day by day. She was able to sit up for a while with her head on a pillow, slowly drink half a bowl of rice porridge, and occasionally take a few steps while holding onto the edge of the kang.

When the doctor came to take his pulse again, he smiled and nodded:

"Thanks to the children's filial piety and unity, my anger subsided and the illness naturally subsided. With a little more rest, I'll be as healthy as before."

Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief.

Qiuling cooked the eggs she had saved up every day to nourish her mother; Dongxue ran all over the neighborhood to get folk remedies; Xiaoman kept the kang (a heated brick bed) warm day and night; and Xiaoya told her mother about the interesting things that happened at school every day after school to make her laugh.

My mother's brows no longer furrowed every day.

Just as the atmosphere at home was gradually warming up, the third letter from the army arrived, with a definite return date.

As soon as the postman shouted at the alley entrance, Chunyan practically ran out.

The envelope was crisper than usual, the postmark was fresh, and the handwriting was my father's most powerful stroke.

His application for demobilization was approved, and he had already received his train ticket. Three days later, he arrived at his hometown in Northeast China.

The letter, though short, was like a small sun, illuminating the entire Song family courtyard.

"Mom, Dad's coming home! He'll be here in three days!"

Chunyan's voice trembled as she finished reading the letter.

The mother leaned against the headboard, clutching the letter tightly in her hand, and tears welled up in her eyes. This time, she cried while smiling.

"Finally... finally coming back..."

She gently touched the letter, as if she were touching the hand of someone far away.

The whole courtyard instantly erupted in a small burst of joy.

Xiahe took out the cleanest bed sheets and quilt covers in the house and was going to re-lay them on the half of the kang where her father slept.

Qiuling took out the new cloth shoes she had made long ago; the soles were stitched densely, full of her thoughts and feelings.

Dongxue ran to her neighbor Aunt Zhang to borrow flour, saying she wanted to steam flour buns for her father;

Xiaoman cleaned the stove inside and out until it shone, and stocked up on rice, millet, and red dates, waiting for her father to come in and cook the hottest porridge.

Even the youngest little sprout hugged that family photo, calling out to it over and over again:

"Dad, come home quickly, Mom is all better, we're all waiting for you."

For those three days, the sky was bright over the Song family's house.

Every day, my mother would sit up and look towards the alley entrance several times, her eyes full of longing.

Chunyan asked the factory for leave in advance to go to the station to pick up her father.

Xiahe swept the house again and again, Qiuling ironed her father's old military uniform until it was perfectly flat, Dongxue learned to chop vegetables, and Xiaoman stewed chicken drumsticks early in the morning, filling the whole alley with their aroma.

The earthen kang (heated brick bed) was the hottest.

The porridge is cooked until it's very soft.

The house is the cleanest.

Everyone's heart is turned in the same direction—

Wait for that figure in military uniform to push open the door.

My mother often touched the family photo on the kang (a heated brick bed) and whispered:

"Once your dad walks down the aisle, our family will truly be complete."

The northeast wind outside the window is no longer biting.

Spring has truly arrived.

The reunion of families is truly coming.