Whereinthere ispatienceand tendernessand understandingand areturn toa littlehome village
A PROCESSION of three sedan chairs made its way along the Big Horse Street of Kuei Ping’s home village. It was the time of the Feast of Lanterns. Made in shapes of birds, and fish with great eyes, and cocks, and little houses that spun round and round when they were lit, some large and some small, they decorated the shops and hung in front of entrance ways, or dangled from sedan chairs. Bo Te, riding with his father in the front of the procession, cried out in glee over each new display or shouted in pure ecstasy over the firing of a particularly loud bunch of firecrackers. The street was packed with slow-moving holiday makers and with vendors who cried their wares and made sales in the midst of traffic, so that Fuh Tang spoke to the chair-bearer in the lead asking him to go through the more quiet Street of Precious Pearls and connect with the hutung on the opposite side.
Kuei Ping rode second in the home-bound procession. Chang An, following behind, leaned forward and raised her voice to remind her of the day, which seemed so long ago now, on which they had come here to buy Kuei Ping’s dowry pearls. The street, too, had its decking in honor of the holiday, dainty lanterns of dull gold decorated in red hungbefore Wong Lui’s close-shuttered doorways, and lovely ones shaped like bright colored autumn leaves decorated a shop farther down the street.
The chairs wound out of the Street of Precious Pearls and on through the streets along which Kuei Ping had passed on her wedding day. Then she had gone in darkness, wrapped in heavy veils, toward a life of unfamiliar things. To-day she came through the same streets again to the Chia compound, conscious of joy in her coming, filled with a deep gladness that she had a place there. Her husband seemed to gather new strength as they passed through ways he had known in boyhood.
Chia Sung Lien with his household met them at the gateways to the family dwelling. Shining with happiness, the old man bade them welcome and begged them to accept his apology that the honorable mother could not meet them at the doorway too, but that she bade them come to her pavilion with haste that she might greet them. When the formal greetings were over Chia Sung Lien took his little grandson about, showing him the wonders of the courtyards, bringing out for his delight the little secret boxes of play treasures saved from his own boyhood, figurescarved of ivory and of ebony, coins which he had saved from pocket-money years ago, letting the child hold the pet birds upon their perching sticks, showing him the purple velvet carp and the silver and gold fish in the fish pond, and exhibiting him to all the old servants of the household and to all the relatives who came to call.
Joy and love radiated through the vast dwelling and were reflected in the passive faces of all who made their home there. Kuei Ping came to realize almost as a revelation the gentle respect for each other and the careful consideration of the group as a whole which were absolutely essential to the life of the compound. What she had at first accepted as natural, then struggled against as a barrier to life, she came now to see in a truer light and to value that which was best in it. She saw with new eyes the patience required upon the part of Madame Chia to keep the household running smoothly and happily. The old woman, now no longer able to go about, directed affairs from her great bed, dividing duties and favors among the daughters-in-law of the family who again divided them among the other members of the house.
Going to visit within her own girlhooddwelling, Kuei Ping, from out of her brief experience, came away again marvelling at the smoothness of her grandmother’s plans, and the care with which her mother had been taught to carry on the family rites after Madame Yen should go on to the life beyond.
Both families accepted with quiet respect Kuei Ping’s feeling about the God in whose service she now lived. If they felt her mistaken they did not speak of it. The duties of attendance upon the family altar and the dropping of daily rice before the Kitchen God were continued by the widow of the deceased son. Kuei Ping came in turn to see beauty in the regularity with which they served as they believed, and the patience with which they lived.
In the dimly lighted courtyard under the familiar magnolia trees she walked with Fuh Tang. His steps were slower now. On the branches above their heads hung lanterns for the festival, through the latticed windows of the rooms about the court warm home lights glowed, from the kitchen court came the sound of servants chattering as they finished the tasks of the day, then above the other noises rose the shrill voice of their son. They stayed their steps to listen. He was telling the other children of the compound about thecourtyard in which he had lived with Father and Mother and Chang An and an old gateman all by himself, telling them about the big city that is Peking. And of the wondrous procession which he had once seen there when Father had lifted him upon the wall that he might get a far-away glimpse of the Emperor with lots and lots of banners and men going with him. They heard him say that when he grew up he was going to be an Emperor and ride along a golden road at the head of a big procession. They heard him shout that he would if he wanted to, when the other children mocked his dream with its impossibility. They heard Chang An bear him away to bed.
Fuh Tang’s eyes twinkled with humor as he looked down at Kuei Ping. She laughed back. The barrier that had seemed to separate them was down. True, the walls of the compound that had pressed in upon their earlier freedom were about them, but Kuei Ping saw them now only as encircling walls of stone and mortar.