Po-Po (sort of pronounced with an English long 'o' sound) sat in the recreation room, just off the kitchen, gently rocking in her chair. All was quiet in the house as the grandchildren had gone off to their own pursuits for the day. Her son, Chan (rhymes with 'son') was off at work while her daughter-in-law Lin Ping was out foraging for Chinese New Year (CNY) goodies at the shops.
Poh-Poh sighed, but contentedly. She enjoyed short breaks from all the activity and noise a family musters up, so here she sat cogitating in the stillness. Today, she would not be 'Poh-Poh' (Grandma) but Lian Hua ('Len Wah', meaning Lotus Blossom). She'd reminisce about her many years of Chinese New Years from childhood up.
Her very first CNY season that she could remember well must have been when she was five or six years old. Her family in China did not have too many extra coins to rub together so it had been a big surprize to get a beautiful new red cheongsam (Chinese dress), just like her cousins always had. Oh how she'd flitted and flounced in that thing, dancing in the courtyard for all the village folk to see. That was when she was happy, before tragedy had struck.
By the time the next CNY had rolled around, her Mama was very ill. Most of the family's coins had gone to buying medicine, all to little avail. It wasn't a very merry CNY that year. Her Mama hadn't made it to the next one.
Before Mama had left them, she'd called each of her children in for a private talk. When it was Lian Hua's turn her father had sternly commanded her to behave and be quick as her Mama needed rest. She recalled her heart had been pounding wildly, half afraid of the sick bed and mother. She'd crept in hesitantly, mindful of her Papa's warning.
"Mama," she'd whispered.
"My darling Lian Hua." Mama had said faintly, struggling to say what she wanted. "Lian Hua, always remember what your name means, and that you are exquisitely beautiful no matter what life brings you. I love you very much. Give me your hand Lian Hua." She barely had time to put her hand in her mother's for that one last time before her Papa came in to escort her out. She had felt her Mama give her something and say, "Sh-h-h!"
"A secret?" she'd wondered. "A secret something between her Mama and her?" It had been intriquing but she didn't even have time to cry or say, "Good-bye Mama!" Papa had whisked her away.
She had put 'the secret' into her pocket, until she could look at it alone, later.
It had been a shock to discover 'the secret' was a small beautifully carved wooden cross. Her Papa hated the cross, white missionaries and their God. Why would Mama give her this?! She'd keep it always. In fact, Lian Hua brought it out of her pocket now. It was worn smooth from years of gentle caresses. It was her treasure and link to her Mama. She wondered if her Mama had become a secret Christian and was telling her to find out what her Papa had considered was the "white man's God", too. It was the most wonderful thing her Mama had done for her even from her deathbed, and beyond the grave. She remembered, basking now in the mystery of it all.
Oh, she hadn't realized she was crying until a tear dribbled down onto the cross. Lian Hua dabbed it dry with her hankerchief as she pondered the next CNY and the many thereafter. Most had been nightmares and she'd, believe it or not, had come to hate the CNY occasions. They were anything but festive!
After Mama had gone away, Papa had become an increasingly angrier and cruel man. He said he had too many mouths to feed and no one to cook for him, even though Lian Hua had been doing the cooking. She had barely been seven or eight when Papa demanded she do the cooking. She was the youngest daugher and lazy, he'd shouted at her. "It's past time you did your part for the family, or else!"
He had left that threat hanging and it had loomed and grown on the horizon of events many times over in her mind. Lian Hua had shivered in fright then, she recollected. It made her shiver now to think of it. The chill grated in zaps along her spine.
It hadn't been long before she'd found out what the "what else" was. Her Papa had traded her! He had said that since she was stubborn and lazy, he'd teach her a lesson. So he traded her for a donkey to help him plough his fields! "At least a donkey will do some work, even if it is stubborn some times," he'd smirked at her. She never saw her Papa or siblings again.
It had been so unfair and untrue but she kept her Mama's words in her heart and she knew, that what her Papa had said about her would not make her conform to the low expectation. It truly hadn't, much. This part of her life she had never even told her husband Malcolm, their son or daughers. Malcolm had never asked about her life in China or even after she had been traded, other than some basics, and he had never suspected the worse. That part had not been pleasesant to dwell on let alone share. However, this afternoon, for whatever reason, she couldn't make herself stop reviewing that part of her life.
The man her Papa had traded with was not a nice guy; Mr. Lee, by name. He brought her to Macau and made her wash dishes, for free, in his restaurant. Eventually she had been 'promoted' to chopping veggies and garlic but still lived in tattered and torn clothing and made to sleep in a hovel above the restaurant along with the others in the same predicament as herself. Restaurant customers had never known of this invisible slave trade taking place right under their noses. Hey, it was the best restaurant, respected and reputed to have the best Chinese cuisine in the region. It couldn't possibly have any dark secrets!
Thankfully, it hadn't been totally unbearable as she had made some friends with others in the same plight, unable to escape, or be free to come and go as they wished. They got to eat leftovers that customers never finished so they hadn't gone entirely hungry.
As the CNY seasons had come and gone, rolling the years away, Lian Hua had constantly wondered about her little wooden cross. It must have been a treasure for her Mama otherwise she wouldn't have given it to her but what was its meaning? She had never been able to discover that and no one seemed able to give her satisfactory answers.
Then one day shortly before another CNY, of course, she finally got her break. Hope filled her heart. A western man along with a Mr. Wong happened to be at the back of the restaurant when she'd gone out to throw some bags of garbage in the bins. The men spoke to her. She was scared and tried to run back inside but the men had called out to her assuring her they didn't mean any harm. They only wanted to know if she could read Chinese and give her some kind of paper. They held it out so she could see the front of it.
She gasped! Right on the front there was a picture of a cross that looked exactly like the one her Mama had given her so many years ago. She had grabbed the paper, stuffed it into her pocket and run inside, breathing great gulps of air with her heart pounding to beat the band.
"Calm yourself," Lian Hua urged herself, "or Chief Chef will do a body check. You don't want him thinking you stole something or have him discover the cross and now the paper in your pocket! He hates those things as much as ever Papa did."
That night she spent extra long in the bathroom where there was a single, dangling bulb of light. Here she could read in private and with great interest she devoured the words on the page, finding the key to unlock the wooden cross secret. "Ye su (pronounce 'Yea Sue' [Jesus])." She was surprized the Name was more than a swear word. 'Ye su' had been a real person, someone who loved everyone, even her! What!? She started to cry. People killed this kind, good and loving Man who helped people?! Why? Why would they be so cruel to Him?" Lian Hua trembled in agony over it. She hurried on in her reading.
It had been news to her to find out what 'sin' was and that she herself was a sinner and even responsible along with everyone else in the world, for having Jesus die on the cross; that old wooden cross. This must have been Mama's secret! She had wept and smiled through her sobs and tears then and even now, her eyes wept, as she rocked in her chair so many years later.
"Oh, what a Savior, that He died for me, a scullery maid slave!" That thought coursed through her being.
"XieXie Ye Su," she'd whispered as a furious knocking had hammered at the lavatory door. Oh, she had gone in there full of despair. Out she'd come full of joy and hope in believing Jesus and that He had died for her! That He loved her and cared about her! Her - the little 'lazy' good-for-nothing Lian Hua of her Papa's label!
Lian Hua had thrust open the door, bursting out exclaiming "Ye su died for me! Xie Xie! Gan Xie Ye su!" (Thank-You, Jesus!) She had danced and twirled in joy.
The startled co-worker slave Ping Ping didn't quite know what had come over Lian Hua who had always been a bit eccentric but never this 'bad'. She laughed and shook her head as she took her turn in the loo.
Lian Hua, had joyfully snuggled into her floor space for the night, too happy to sleep. She started humming a tune she realized was one she'd heard her Mama hum not too long before she'd gotten so sick. "Oh," Lian Hua had thought, "this must be a Jesus song!" She did finally sleep and had woken up the next morning still invigorated with the joy of knowing Jesus and what the wooden cross was all about.
"Zao shang hao, everyone! Ye su ai ni!" (Good Morning...Jesus loves you!) she had greeting them all as they had slowly winked opened their eyes. "Groan, Lian Hua, let us sleep a bit more, it's still early!" Oh, Lian Hua remembered feeling at the top of the world despite the surroundings. "It's going to be a wonderful CNY this year!"
In fact, it was indeed almost that time of year again. She'd seen them decorating the restaurant and CNY music filled the air. Lian Hua's old feelings of loathing CNY had suddenly melted away. This was not just an ordinary CNY but a new Jesus life year for her.
Not everyone was thrilled about this change in Lian Hua; the Chief Chef, for one. He'd reported it to Mr. Lee and Mr. Lee had come and beaten her up. Her nose was broken, and her body battered and bruised for weeks afterwards. The pain of her broken nose nauseated her but she still had to work at full steam. Mr. Lee had shouted into her face in a rage, "You stop talking about Jesus and wooden crosses! Do you hear?! Or, else!"
Her joy had not been dampened however but she did question, "Uh-oh, not 'or else' again. Jesus, help!" she'd prayed.
Ping Ping had listened to Lian Hua's story but she said, "Look, you got beaten up for your Jesus, you think I want that to happen to me too?" Lian Hua had pleaded with her. As far as she knew, Ping Ping had never accepted Jesus as Savior and that made her sad.
Several weeks later, Lian Hua met the two men again when she went out to dispose of the kitchen garbage. Her faith and love for Jesus had continued to soar and radiated from her face. That day she'd happily stepped out the back humming her Mama's tune. She had halted in her tracks when she had seen the men. There they were again. She had dropped the garbage and raced over to them falling on her knees and folding her hands in a prayer stance, saying to them. "Xie xie, ni men. Ye su ai wo. Xie, xie! Wo ai Ye Su!" (Thank-you. Jesus loves me. I love Jesus.)
The men looked at each other and grinned. They reached out to Lian Hua helping her to stand up. They wanted to know why she was all bruised up. Lian Hua steered them away from answering that by telling them about her cross and the paper they'd given her. Did they have any more of those papers to give away and also different ones for her to read? Wow! They sure did. They handed some over along with a New Testament for her to read. They prayed for her and she had scuttled back inside.
Through Lian Hua's testimony several other restaurant workers had come to Christ. Chief Chef and Mr. Lee found this more and more intolerable and even though Lian Hua had become an even better worker, they threw her out onto the streets. That had been Mr. Lee's "what else".
The two missionary men had come every two or three weeks in hopes of seeing Lian Hua again. Finally, after another CNY had come round, they spotted her, chased after her, and looked upon her with great pity and compassion. "Lian Hua, tell us what's happened. Why are you on the streets? We've been looking for you for ages. Ping Ping told us you no longer worked at the restaurant."
Lian Hua explained, "I've been a slave for Mr. Lee since I was about seven or eight years old. Now I have become a servant of Jesus Christ, Mr. Lee does not like that."
Mr. Wong and Mr. West asked if she'd be willing to come to the mission house with them. "Oh, we have wives, so it is ok for you to come. We want to feed you and take care of you until you know what you'd like to do with your life. You are free to live as Jesus wishes you to live. We'd appreciate any help you can give with our work but it is not a prerequisite to you coming into our home and mission."
Lian Hua recalled being exceedingly grateful for that! As it so happened, Mr. Wong's wife ran a small cafe where the homeless could come, have a meal and hear the gospel of Jesus Christ. Mrs. Wong, or LiLi, as she wished to be called, said she could use help making meals and speaking with the souls that came in. Lian Hua was overjoyed to help as it was really about the only thing she knew how to do at the time, anyway.
Mrs. West, Agatha, by name, taught her how to crochet and also how to keep accounts. She had soon become very good at both of those skills. In return, she sometimes babysat for the West's children Bob, Bonnie and Bill. They were fun kids and so obedient it was always a pleasure to give the couple a night out alone now and again.
Several years on, one would never have known Lian Hua's past as she'd meshed and merged into her then, present. Lian Hua put her present thoughts on pause, got up from her rocker, stretched and shook her legs a bit and went to make herself a wee spot of tea. Bringing it back to her chair, she looked out the rec room's grilled window. CNY decorations swayed gently in the afternoon breezes. She felt a bit drowsy but wanted to continue her historical daydreams.
Taking a sip of tea she smiled, realizing she was at a favorite point in her self story. You don't have to guess that it was at another CNY time. Coincidentally, major events in her life revolved around CNY, so no surprizes there.
Enter Malcolm. The debonair Malcolm Chan Wen Ming, LiLi's brother. Confidence and charm oozed out of him and he certainly could make a room sparkle more brightly. At least in her opinion. Ha, ha. Of course, she wasn't going to give him an inch of acknowledgement on that account. She'd made him work for her attention she recalled now with a mischievous chuckle. Nonetheless, the instant she'd seen him, the thought buzzed through her brain, this is your "knight in shining armor!" My, where did that thought come from?! "Lord, was that you or just my own flight of fancy?" She had had to wait patiently and see.
Malcolm's story was that he had just returned from overseas' studies, thus his English name, he'd told her. Did she want an English name too? "Well, not particularly. I've got on fine without one so far. Lian Hua is a name to be proud of and my Mama loved it, so I'm happy with it too."
"Ok. ok. No offense meant," he'd replied.
A couple of days before CNY, Mrs. Wong had asked the two of them to go to the market. Lian Hua to purchase the fruit, veggies, and so on for the next few days and Malcolm was to carry it all back for her. Lian Hua thought that's strange, I'm used to doing all that alone, why'd she ask me to bring Malcom along?
She now knew LiLi and Agatha were playing cupid and she'd been too naive to realize. To make a long story short - the match making had paid off. She and Malcolm Chan had became happily married. Lian Hua sniffed some at this. She still missed the dear man even though he'd been with Jesus for 10 years already. "Jesus," she whispered, "You gave me a fine life and a fine husband in Malcolm. I miss him but I await Your timing to join him. TQ, for the grandchildren to influence for You now and a great-grand on the way soon, maybe even this coming CNY! You always bring big events to me around this time of year. You make me smile and I have never regretted belonging to You! Thank-You, Lord. Gan Xie Ye Su!"
Here I sit sipping tea and still crocheting, making gifts for others. Not every grandmother gets to sit and rest like this but I'm glad for the respite, she thought to herself. She looked up from her work again, contemplating the red Chinese lanterns decorating the window grill. Tastefully done. Red. An important CNY color. The color of her favorite cheongsam of childhood so long ago. Red. The color of the blood of Jesus shed for her. She looked beyond the latticed space to the well-trimmed green grass. Green for growth. Growth in Christ Jesus.
Mr. Wong and Mr. West had explained that well. She had been traded for a donkey to work like a donkey but Jesus had tamed the donkey in her and given her a life's work for Him to further His kingdom in herself and others. She was forever grateful to grow in His grace and to share His message with one and all no matter how stubbornly donkey-ish they may be.
Praise the Lord, the One who died for me and had never failed her. It is indeed a Happy New Chinese New Year. She was ready, come what may.
"Gan Xie Ye Su!" She really couldn't stop saying that enough.
Oh, she could hear some of the others coming home. "Lord, quick, one last wish I must softly ask before we are interrupted. May we all have,
Xin Nian Hao (New Year Goodness),
Xin Nian Kuai Le (New Year Happiness)
and most importantly...
Xin Nian Meng En (New Year of God's Blessings) ."
Sipping her tea with one hand she slipped the little wooden cross back into her secret pocket with the other. "Time to be Poh-Poh again," she said into the air, as she gently sat rocking in her chair.
~ERC January 2022~
Note: This is a ficticious story made up out of the figment of my imagination although, it's true, there is much human trafficking going on in the world and in places we don't even realize. Any names, events, etc mentioned above being the same as anyone else's life experience should be seen as purely coincidental.
Credit to Jane Koh for the accompanying photo. Many thanks, Jane, it really fits the bill.
