Childhood memories, yay!!! Translated…
A memory of my childhood was, as the skies slowly became brighter, my mom’s voice, hurrying me to wake up rang in my ears. In the icy, cold mornings of the winter, the more she’d ushered me, the more I’d gotten deeper, underneath my quilt, until my mother used her killer offer, “if you don’t get up soon, you won’t have any egg soup!”
In order to help out with the household finances, my mother kept over a dozen of fowls, chickens and ducks in our backyard. As I was in the elementary years, I’d always had to clean up their droppings before school, and I’d pinched my nose, and mumbled, “it stinks”, as I went about this chore, unwillingly, and my mother would threaten, “keep on ranting, then, you won’t have any egg soup later on!”, other than cleaning up the coups, I’d also had to feed them, and pick up the mildly warm chicken and duck eggs, and, until the morning sun started shining up in the skies, would I be set free, from this work.
I’d washed up quickly, groomed myself, changed into my uniform, at which time, my mom had already prepared the porridge, seeing I’d stepped into the kitchen, she’d quickly pour the porridge (without a grain of rice) into my bowl, then, she’d mixed in a chicken egg, which was slightly larger than the egg of a pigeon, with a pinch of salt, stirred it a bit, then, a “chicken egg soup” is served.
A bit sweet, somewhat salty, the taste of freshness exploded into my mouth. In those economic difficult times, this, was such an extravagance! A simple kind of happiness, along with my mom’s busying about in front of the kitchen stove, it’s all, my hard-to-forget memories of childhood.
And so, this, is the taste of childhood that someone recalls, and, it’s still NOT just how the foods tasted, but how she’d felt, growing up, encountering the events she’d encountered in her life, and that, is how memories are.