When I was a child, I was always dreaming about leaving home. I liked reading fairy tales when I was little. I admired those children who could go to different interesting places. Also I was tired of my parents always asking me to do my homework or clean the room. I wanted freedom. That summer, I was getting excited about leaving home. In my country, we have a term examination for college and university every year. If you pass the exam, you can go into university to study. Meanwhile, students have to live in the schoolhouse. I applied for schools that were all far away from my hometown. The outside must be mysterious, I thought.
The day that I went to school was coming. My parents didn’t show any morose facial expressions. Those days, they prepared everything for me. I was happy to visit my friends and enjoy parties most of the time. In our culture, parents are very strict and solemn with their children. But I am lucky, my parents dote on me. Sometimes, we acted like best friends. When my father bundled up my bedclothes, I jumped on top of the baggage and laughed. When my mother put my clothes into the bag, I took one out, put in on and made a funny face. It seemed my parents were going to school, not me.
I was singing on the way to the train station. I would take the train for a few days to the school. In the car, my father told me how to get along well with other people. My mother told me how to clean my clothes and bed sheets. They urged again and again about lots o things. That time, I couldn’t listen to anything. I was thinking where I should visit and what kind of new friends I would make. I have only remembered my father spoke and old poem to me :
“Thread in the kind mother’s hand,
Stitching clothes for the boy out of home.
With intense sewing before his departure,
Wish he might never be back home too late;
Who can say we have had enough reward,
Mother’s brilliant and everlasting love.”
I couldn’t understand why my father kept repeating the last part of the poem. Later, I experienced the different lives and understood my parent’s deep feeling. My parents followed the train when it started moving. They looked smaller and smaller. I waved my hand and said “Goodbye!” Then, I sat on my seat and took a deep breath. I told myself I was free from now on.
Seven of us lived in one dormitory. Most of us let home for the first time. We were so excited to know each other. We walked to the class and the dining hall together in the daytime. We went to the park and shopping on the weekend. In the evening, everybody went to the library. But I stayed in the dormitory, read books, listened to music and daydreamed. That time, I felt I lived in my own world. Nobody asked me to do this or that. When other roommates came back, we were talking, laughing and playing. All o us enjoyed this kind of fresh air.
I didn’t remember when the dormitory was silent. We didn’t know why. One day, we saw a movie. I almost forget the movie what it talk about, but the song of the movie touched us. Everyday, the speaker of the campus was singing:
“Mom, Mom, let me see you again;
Let me call you one more time.
You are always in my dream…”
Most of us listened and sang this song everyday. I heard some sobs after midnight. I knew the song made us miss our families. After I enjoyed freedom, I felt lonely. I had to wash my clothes and bed sheets by myself (we didn’t have a washing machine in the school). I couldn’t eat what I liked for lunch or dinner… I missed my carefree home life.
As time goes by, I’m further away than the first time. I am used to leaving home. However, I still recollect when I left home the first time. That experience let me grow up. I never regret leaving home in order to fulfill myself. Now, I think I should open my mind. Life is adventure. Before, I thought I could breathe fresh air after I left home. After a while, I know everything is not what I thought. The outside world is not only interesting, but also it is restricting.
– September 24, 2001
