From 9th to 13th, I had stayed at home for five days (if two days spent on travelling was counted). This was a happy Mid-Autumn Festival. Familiar streets, familiar shops, familiar people. Delicious moon cakes, inviting deserts, and fresh fruits. I enjoyed them all very much. However, of all these, I feel fortunate that I had finally come to understand a fact: there is a kind of happiness which I will rather put it in Chinese “为某人而忙碌着”.

Papa, who is always upset by trivialities, will do everything for me. He seldom goes out of our district, but he took a 15 minutes’ walk to pick me up. If I am off in some unfamiliar street, he will take a taxi to fetch me, just like what he has done in the previous times. When Ls and I are not at home, he and Mama will not cook for meals if their time is not available. However, every time I come back home, he will buy everything I want to eat: chicken, shrimps, field snails and the lotus root soup. He will even buy me potatoes and cook for me, even though he and Mama don’t like potatoes at all; and so is pumpkin.

Like Papa, Mama will make full use of all the time available to do something for me. Cooking meals, making deserts and cleaning. And I cannot forget how she saw me off yesterday. After 15 minutes’ walk, she helped me to get all my stuff on a bus (the bag for food was heavier than my own stuff). Forgetting my protests, she insisted she get on the bus and go to the railway station with me. So 35 minutes bought us to the station. While I though Mama might go back now for she still had to take her work, but she entered the waiting hall with me, saying:” I’m not engaged. Even I go back home right now, I have nothing to do at home.” I knew she was lying, but I saw a sense of love that I could not translate it into exact words. About 15 minutes later, the broadcast announced the coming of the train and asked all passengers to line up to go to the platform. I took up my two bags, and walked towards the entrance. To my surprise, Mama followed me. “The bags are so heavy. Let me help you.” Said she. At that moment, I thought naïve that it would be ok to let Mama accompany me to the platform, for she could go back through the same old way. On the platform standing Mama and I. Seconds later, the train came. The passengers who were getting off reminded me of the fact that you have to show your ticket before you are allowed to step out the entrance. Ticket? Mama had none…then how could Mama…but there left no time to find the answer, Mama turned towards the underground passage and I joined the line quickly. Time allowed me not to look back and spot Mama among the crowd, but, how about Mama? She must have been looked back and seen me getting on the train…

All these scenes hurt my mind every time I recall them. If my coming back only makes them more busy, then I prefer I didn’t come back. However, every time I express this idea to them, they will just smile and call me “Stupid”. And fortunately, I finally knew why I look stupid to them: at the bottom of your heart, there hides someone. You will try to do everything that you think will make them happy. Even time is pressing and work is mountoun-liked, they sink into insignificance compared with the one you love. For while doing all these stuff for her, you are enveloped with happiness. So, this is the happiness I have come to realize, a happiness call “为某人而忙碌”.