陳白菊 《 Getting By 》 美國

        Dad  became  withdrawn.  He  mourned Mom’s death.  She  left  him widowed with nine children that he didn’t know how to raise.  My  Dad  was  strict  and  everyone  was afraid of him,  even more so after Mom’s passing.  He spent more time with himself than with his children.  It  was like we were in two separate worlds that never  collided.  Soon we were running out of money.  My  sisters  reopened the grocery  store,  this  time  on a much smaller scale.  Due  to  the  war,  most  people  did not have money to rebuild their stores,  so  we  rented  the  same  store,  except  there was no roof or walls.  Instead of an actual store,  it was more like a market stall.  Our store was a shadow of its former glory, full of rubble and broken fixtures.  We  built  a  six  by  eight  feet  wooden platform and filled it with our merchandise.  We  scraped  together  what  we  could  in  an  attempt  to rebuild  our  store.  What  used  to be a  full  200 lbs  burlap bag of rice was now a 20 lbs paper bag  of  rice.  Over  here,  there  were  10 lbs of  black  beans,  green  beans,  white beans,  and red beans.  Over  there,  we had sugar, flour,  a few bottles of fish sauce,  and soy sauce.  Our mini store fit squarely on the wooden platform. It was a pale comparison to the store we owned before the war.  Not  only that,  but  our returning customers could only afford a tenth of what they used  to buy.  Because of that,  my  family  continued  to struggle financially.  The  war in Vietnam was  over,  but  Vietnam was still very  much a broken country,  and  everyone was in dire  situation.  We  consoled each other as best as we could.  In  the  evening,  we “closed” our shop by locking up our goods inside a rusty burned metal container.

        Due to the war,  food  was  rationed.  Once  a  week,  each family received a loaf of bread and cabbage.  Before  the  local officials even opened their  office,  a  large  crowd would already be gathered outside.  People pushed, shoved, yelled, and screamed at each other, trying to get to the front.  Everyone  was  hungry and fought for some food to feed their families.  I,  too,  was part of that crowd, fighting my way inside. I either pushed or was pushed by the crowd behind me.  I  was  a short and chubby 10 year old, but I could slither my way around people.  I  would  get my food and fought my way out.  I  have to say,  I was embarrassed of what I  did.  In  Chinese School,  I was taught to be respectful and orderly but during this  difficult time I did  the  opposite.  At  the  same  time,  I  felt satisfied because my mission to feed my family was accomplished.  We had bread to eat. We survived yet another day.

陳白菊 (Laura Tran)