One of my wonderful memories is about a Christmas gift. Unlike other gifts, it came without wrap(包装).
On September 11, 1958, Mum gave birth to Richard. After she brought him home from hospital, she put him in my lap, saying, 'I promised you a gift, and here it is.' What an honor! I turned four a month earlier and none of my friends had such a baby doll of their own. I played with it day and night. I sang to it. I told it stories. I told it over and over how much I loved it!
One morning, however, I found its bed empty. My doll was gone! I cried for it. Mum wept and told me that the poor little thing had been sent to a hospital. It had a fever. For several days, I head mum and Dad whispering such words as 'hopeless', 'pitiful', and 'dying', which sounded ominous.
'Christmas was coming, don't expect any presents this year' Dad said, pointing at the socks I hung in the living room. I'd never seen him cry before.
The phone rang early on Christmas morning. Dad jumped out of bed to answer it. From my bedroom I heard him say, 'What? He's all right?'. He hung up and shouted upstairs. 'The hospital said we can bring Richard home!'
'Thank god!' I heard Mum cry.
From the upstairs window, I watched my parents rush out to the car. I had never seen them so happy. And I was also full of joy. What a wonderful day! My baby doll would be home. I ran downstairs. My socks still hung there flat. But I knew they were not empty: they were filled with love!