It was a fine summer morning, perfect to be outdoors. Two sisters had been out mushroom picking, and were on their way home with heavy baskets full of mushrooms. They sang songs on the way, and played with each other.

Soon they reached a point where they had to cross a railway track. They did not think twice about crossing it since there was no train coming, and they could not hear any whistle. They slowly climbed the steep railway embankment, taking care not to drop the baskets. They were very near the track and the little sister Mary was about to cross it first when a train whistled in the distance.

Hearing the train coming, Rose the elder sister quickly ran down. She thought that the young one was following her. But as she turned back, she was shocked to see her little sister still up there crossing the track. “Come back here! Run back fast!” she shouted.

Mary seemed not to hear the whistle nor her sister’s cry as she was concentrating on stepping over the track with her little feet, and holding on to the basket. Then she tripped and fell on the track, scattering her mushrooms around.

The engine driver panicked on seeing a girl between the tracks who was on her hands and knees and he blew the horn with all his strength. Poor Mary, who was frightened by the coming danger, froze and didn’t know what to do. When Rose saw the scene, she screamed at the top of her voice for Mary’s attention. Mary noticed that her sister was not around and cried for help.

With the train drawing near, the engine driver grew extremely anxious. As hard as he could, he kept blowing the whistle and started reducing speed. Yet it was not possible for him to stop the heavy train within such a short distance.

Rose wouldn’t watch the tragedy happen before her eyes.

The train rolled over and finally stopped.

A GIFT FOR GRANDPA

Summer vacation was coming. Jack and his brother Berlin were filled with excitement as they thought of visiting their grandparents again.

The big day came at last. After the happy family got ready, they set out for the grandparents’ eagerly. On the way, the brothers were excitedly talking about the fun they had with grandparents.

A little blue house with a tall white chimney finally appeared. Behind the property was the forest carrying their good memories with Grandpa. They arrived at the driveway, at the end of which Grandma was waiting for them joyfully.

Jack and Berlin each gave Grandma a big hug and then swept to the living room, shouting excitedly “Grandpa, we are back!”

Seeing his grandsons, Grandpa was wild with joy and tried to get up with all his strength from the chair but in vain. A helpless expression flashed on his face. Grandma explained that his health was declining rapidly and maybe couldn’t stand up on his own forever. But Grandpa declared stubbornly (倔强地), “I can!” Certainly, he was stuck in his boyish way. Mum and grandparents were happy to meet again after a long time. They sat together and chatted about what happened recently.

The brothers were soon bored with adult conversation, went out and wandered into the forest. Tall trees stretched up to the heavens with large branches crossing each other, while young ones rose straight like soldiers. Grandpa was once a great explorer full of wisdom. He could tell where the birds came from only by their calls and songs. The trees, birds, lizards, lots of bugs...How many merry moments they spent with Grandpa in the kingdom!

But now Grandpa couldn't get up. This made them worried. “We’d think out a way to cheer him up.” Jack said. “Grandpa is a bird lover, and we can catch him a bird.” Berlin suggested. “But he hates birds being caged!” Jack shook his head.

Then a bright idea came to Jack’s mind. “Why not make a cane (拐杖) out of a young tree!”

Berlin thought it was a good idea.

Jack and Berlin handed the cane to Grandpa.

Sarah grew up in West Virginia as a normal American girl. Jim, a professor at WVU, and Judy, a teacher, showered their youngest daughter with love and encouragement. Sarah picked roses in her garden, rode her bike around the neighborhood, and enjoyed vacations with her parents and two sisters. Sil, she could never quite shake off the sense that she didn’t belong in her fair-haired family or the community with few minorities. Worse, she felt the anxiety shared by many adopted children: if one set of parents abandoned you, why wouldn't another? She tried very hard to be a good kid so that her present parents would never want to give her up. This feeling kept haunting her all through her childhood and teen years.

Sarah studied drama and in 2001 got some minor roles in films after graduation. She moved to California to pursue her career. It was then that she felt the urge to find her birth parents. She hired a private detective, who, after some investigation, found that her biological mother was long dead, and her father was then an exchange student from the Mende tribe in Sierra Leone, an African country on the Atlantic coast. In fact, her father, Kposowa, belonged to the ruling family, which made Sarah a princess in her father’s tribe.

But she leaned through the news that a brutal civil war had been raging in Sierra Leone, and her native county was let in ruins. Sarah also noticed that the local news in Sierra Lcone made no mention of her father as the head of Mende tribe, and she couldn’t help wondering if her inquiry was too late. But she sent a letter anyway, with her contact information, hoping it would somehow reach her biological father half way across the globe. To drown her doubts and regrets, she threw herself into her acting and was on the fast track to success, the letter to her father half forgotten amid actress’s life.

In gift shops, it is likely that many tourists would pass by what may be a symbol of Portugal: swallows made of glass. In Portugal, people gift the birds for weddings, anniversaries, housewarmings and going-away gatherings.

Farewells were on my mind when I met Apolinario in February 2020. At the time I was well aware of my oldest child’s upcoming graduation and departure for university in a city far from home.

Ethan, my oldest child, has been away from me before. There have been camps and school trips, but each time I have rested easy in the knowledge that he would come home. He always comes home.

But this time I feel less certain.

The feeling was at its peak when I entered Apolinario’s gift shop that specialized in Portuguese souvenirs. I was aimlessly walking among the shelves when I noticed the abundance of glass swallows.

“The swallow is connected to a lot of things that are dear to us,’’ explained Apolinario who stood behind me. The birds’ qualities —they mate for life and raise their babies together—make it a nostalgic (怀旧的) symbol. “They don’t leave the nest until all of the babies do and they always return.”

Apolinario also told me that the swallow also marked an important time in the country’s history when the Portuguese sailed around the world. A lot of people missed their homeland and wanted to come back. The swallow represented that there was a nest somewhere in Portugal, although people were living all over the world.

“The concept is best described as the feeling of connection you get when you taste your grandmother’s cooking or a familiar smell that takes you back to your childhood. The swallow is thought to be the embodiment (体现) of that feeling. When you have one in or on your home, it carries those good memories with it,” he added. “When you’re giving this as a gift, you’re basically giving a part of yourself that stays there. You’re creating a connection.”

Grandma got Grandpa out of bed and helped him to the kitchen for breakfast. After his meal, she led him to his armchair in the living room where he would rest while she cleaned the dishes. Every so often, she would check to see if he needed anything.

This was their daily routine after Grandpa’s latest stroke. Although once a very active man, his severely damaged left arm, difficulty walking and slurred speech now kept him housebound. For nearly a year he hadn’t even been to church or to visit family.

Grandpa filled his hours with television. He watched the news and game shows while Grandma went about her day. They made a promise — he was not to leave his chair or his bed without her assistance.

“If you fell and I threw my back out trying to help you, who would take care of us?” Grandma would ask him. She was resolved they should take care of themselves and live independently. The Brooklyn brownstone had been their first home and held wonderful memories. They weren’t ready to leave it behind anytime soon.

Immigrants from Ireland, they had met and married in America. Grandma was friendly, outgoing and unselfish; Grandpa was reserved, a man devoted to his family, but he wasn’t big on giving gifts. While he wouldn’t think twice about giving Grandma the shirt off his back, he had the belief that if you treated your wife well throughout the year, presents weren’t necessary; so he rarely purchased gifts for her.

It was a cold, gray February morning, a typical winter’s day in New York. As always, Grandma walked Grandpa to his chair. “I’m going to take a shower now.” She handed him the television remote. “If you need anything, I’ll be back in a little while.”

After her shower, she glanced towards the back of Grandpa’s recliner but noticed that his cane was not leaning in its usual spot. Sensing something unusual, she went into the room. He was gone. The closet door stood open and his hat and overcoat were missing. Fear ran down her spine. Grandma threw a coat over her bathrobe and ran outside.

Desperately, she scanned the street in both directions.

Just then, Grandpa came around the corner.