My Daughters' Piggy Bank

By You Meng

Giving up ice cream

I have two little daughters. The older one's name is Bao Bao and the younger one is called Bei Bei. Like most mothers, I want my daughters to have a bright future. On one hand, I hope they will become outstanding members of American society and on the other hand, I do not want them to lose the spirit of their Chinese culture but to maintain Chinese virtues of thrift and uprightness.

Last year, when I went to Chinatown I bought them a nice piggy bank. Then I began to teach them to save their pocket money and  promised to treat them to a trip to Disneyland once the bank was full.

Bao Bao's allowance was one dollar a week and Bei Bei's was fifty cents. Bao Bao was a second-grader. At her school there were ice-creams on sale every Friday and they cost fifty cents. Up to this time Bao Bao had never passed up a chance to buy an ice-cream. For her, ice-cream was the best food of all, no matter what the season. Bei Bei, on the other hand, was too young and hardly knew what to buy with her money. So she usually gave her allowance to her sister who helped her spend it.

After we agreed on the trip to Disneyland, Bao Bao started giving up her Friday ice-creams in spite of some peer pressure from her classmates. She also told her sister to stop spending. Every Saturday evening, they would put their whole allowance, six quarters in all, into the piggy bank.  Then with great  excitement, they would pour all the money out, count every penny and began to dream about their trip to Disneyland.

The little match-seller

One evening, I told them the Hans Christian Andersen story, The Little Match-seller. When I was finished, I noticed that Bao Bao's eyes were moist and that tears were slowly coursing down her little cheeks. Bei Bei's eyes, too, were full of tears and she was very quiet. I hurried to the bathroom to get tissues for them. When I got back to their room, Bao Bao was already holding their piggy bank and shaking it. One by one as the quarters fell out she placed them in her sister's hands. Bei Bei was stretching out her dear little hands to hold the quarters and was counting them.

I stood still at the door, silently watching the two little girls. After a long while, they walked toward me. Bao Bao put eight quarters into my hands and said, "Mom, please use these two dollars to buy the little match-seller a loaf of bread." Bei Bei also counted four quarters into my hands and said, "One, two, three, four. OK. Mom, these four quarters are for the little girl's shoes. I'm giving her four because I'm four years old."

Their sweet childish voices echoed around the room and in my heart too.

I hugged them, deeply touched by what was pouring out of their simple little hearts - unadorned innocence, spontaneous goodness, the natural beauty of  hearts of love that could only come from the Lord Himself...

Grandma's medical expenses

At the beginning of the year I called my parents in China and found out that my mother was very ill. As I hung up the phone, I felt a sense of deep pain because I was not able to go back to China at that time. Tears poured from my eyes. Then I talked to my husband and asked if we could send some money to my mom for her medical expenses. Bao Bao stood there watching us in silence. Then she signed to her sister to follow her into their room.

Shortly afterwards they came out of their room with some coins in their hands. They came up and gave me the money, saying, "Don't cry, Mom! Please take the money from our piggy bank and send it to Grandma."

But as I saw the two little pairs of hands clutching the coins, I could still not restrain my tears. This time my tears were warm, overflowing from my heart. Several days later I could still feel the warmth of those tears.

The beggar

One rainy afternoon shortly afterwards I had just arrived home after picking up Bao Bao from school. There were some loud knocks at the door. We lived in an apartment and hardly ever would anyone come and knock at our door. Without first peeking through the keyhole I opened the door. Standing in front of me was a tall young man with his hair sticking up. He said he needed some money to go to college and asked me to give him twenty dollars.

I opened my purse and took out two dollars. He shook his head in refusal. He said he needed at least ten dollars. Nervously I opened my purse again but found there was only one dollar left. I emptied out the purse and gave it all to him. He still refused to accept it and glared angrily at me. I became even more nervous. There were only me and my two daughters; nobody else was around. What would I do if he became unreasonable?

As I stood there totally nonplussed, Bao Bao ran into her room and came out with her piggy bank in her hands. In front of the young man, she shook the piggy bank vigorously and out fell a little red envelope. Bao Bao picked it up and gave it to the young man, saying, "There's two dollars inside. This isn't ordinary money, though. Mom gave it to me on Chinese New Year's Day. When you get it, you will get some good luck too."

The young man did not take the envelope, but his face softened. He looked at Bao Bao and Bei Bei and smiled, "I can't take your money. Thanks!" Then he left.

I locked the door and hugged Bao Bao and Bei Bei tightly.

A Mother's Day present

How time flies! Before we realized it, it had been ten springs and ten autumns since my husband and I had bid our motherland farewell and come to the West with all our belongings - two pieces of luggage and plenty of dreams. We had wandered around for ten years and lived like nomads for ten years. Our hair had turned grey in the foreign wind. But now at last we were in a position to bring our life as tenants to an end and become property owners.

Being a property owner is supposed to be very exciting, but I never felt that excitement. I even ordered myself to wear a smile, though the smile on my face was bitter sweet. Bao Bao and Bei Bei, however, were very happy because they knew they would now have their own backyard and nobody would come to bother them if they jumped up and down on the floor.

I had a hard time collecting enough for a down-payment on the house. I did all I could to save money. On Mother's Day, when I was toiling away trying to figure out how to save money on a fence repairing project, Bao Bao came up to me with a greeting card and a hand-made present-a little flower basket she had made out of cardboard. Bei Bei came to me holding their piggy bank in her hands.

"Mommy, today is your day. Don't work too hard! This is a present from my sister and me. Daddy said you really needed money right now. Mommy, we'd like to give you all our money for you to buy the house. We want to keep back fifty cents, though, for the church offering. Our Sunday school teacher told us that God gave us everything: the sun, the flowers, a wonderful mom and the piggy bank too. Now God is giving us a house."

Saying this, Bao Bao put the little flower basket and the greeting card in my hands. Then she and Bei Bei handed over their piggy bank to me.

Four soft little hands held out the piggy bank as four crystal clear eyes gazed innocently into mine. Those hands were lovelier than any flowers and more alive than the greenest tree. The eyes were soft as morning dew, only clearer; they were tranquil like lakes, only even more graceful; they were crystal clear like moonlight, only more tangible. They were paintings and sails in my dreams and poems in my life.

But for the grace of our Creator and Lord, I would never have been worthy of having such wonderful daughters. The Lord had given us the house we needed as well as my two little sweethearts. But I was still not satisfied and not happy. Why?

I stared at the piggy bank in silence; then I stared at the four little hands holding the piggy bank and at their innocent faces. Then every cell in my body grew warm. All I could do was hug these two little darlings and kiss their faces and hands. From the depths of my heart poured a mixture of joy, sweetness, comfort and thanksgiving.

We moved into our new residence and my daughters' piggy bank moved in with us. Although it was empty, it was filled with the sincerity and love of my little girls, along with my own joy and thanksgiving.

The author lives in San Francisco.