I can still vaguely recall that it was the time when Spring Festival was around the corner, all the families were busy with buying flour, making dough and cooking the tasty dumplings with a variety of stuffing. Every single person seemed to enjoy the upcoming feast of dumplings and be immersed in the joyful atmosphere.
The only exception was me.Back then, I was still a very shy girl who rarely dared to speak out one’s perceptions and perspectives. With a personality like this, I could hardly gain any appraisals from my teachers or build friendship with my classmates. Due to all of these reasons, I eventually maintained a negative attitude toward the surroundings and could not help thinking I was the most unfortunate girl in the world. I considered this most significant festival of the Chinese as any other ordinary days in addition to some dumplings.
It was at that night when my mother called upon all of my family members and announced that from then on, we would initiate a new custom. The rule was simple: she would wrap a coin in one of the dumplings and whoever got this coin would be considered as the luckiest guy in our family for the next year.
“What kind of difference will that stupid dumpling make?” Being extremely careless to my mother’s considerate little surprise, I just grabbed the plate from her hand and sat down.
Not blaming for my rude interruption, my mother just smiled and handed over everyone a plate filled with hot and mouthwatering dumplings. With absolutely no interest in my mother’s childish little game, I just want to finish this plate as soon as possible and went back to my room. However, as I dug into my plate, my mother whisked away the plate in front of me, saying, “This was too much for you.” and handed out hers to me.
Quietness took hold of the rest of the meal until my unexpected discover broke this awkward silence. I felt a weirdly cold and hard object tipping in my mouth.
It was that coin.
With loads of excitement and bits of suspicion, I stared at my mother who already had “pride” written all over her face.
“My daughter will be the luckiest girl in this whole year!” She said so in a tone mixed with happiness and affirmation.
After I started to believe that I was the one who was designated with good luck, I finally made a difference in my life. There is such thing called confidence breaking into my life as time elapsed. Blessed by that magical dumpling, I could manage the interpersonal relationship and handle my school work much better. What’s more, I began to look forward to the very beautiful occasion, Spring Festival and can’t wait to taste some of the excellent dumplings, at the same time, find out that if my luck can last.
Every Spring Festival, she served us with dumplings.
Every year, she played this same little game.
Every year, somehow it was me who would always get the lucky dumpling.
Gradually, eating dumplings has already rooted in my daily life. Each time I felt depressed or lost, I would resort to dumplings to quest for comfort and power, regardless whether they had coins stuffed in them or not. But time by time, I accumulated experience and skills through these failure and success, eventually, I grew up to an age when I no longer needed the fortunate dumplings to build my confidence in life. My becoming mature and considerate urged me to doubt about how this miracle could ever possibly happen.
The dumplings were nothing special. Lying in the plate neatly, every single one of them looked like an exquisite piece of art work, glowing with the same charming pearl color and spreading the similar inviting smell. The only difference is that there would always be one dumpling with a coin hidden in it appeared on my plate.
Last Spring Festival, just as the time when I decided to give up on the search of my mother’s little secret and lived in the peace with the small world that I was the most fortunate one, my mother invited me to her kitchen, the place where I had rarely stepped into because of various excuses. She was busy with going through all the preparations before making dumplings. All I did was standing there and watching her running back and forth. The process was tiring and time-consuming, nothing special. But as she started to cook the dumplings, I finally revealed the secret I longed to discover: She stuffed a well-washed coin into a dumpling, wrapped it up and boiled it in a separate little pot. By this way she can always pour the fortunate dumpling correctly on my plate without mixing with other dumplings.
She placed that fortunate dumpling into my plate, smiled and handed it to me. Holding the plate in both hands, I was wordless. How can a simple “thank you” reward her effort? Her willing of wasting her precious time and patience dedicated for rebuilding her juvenile daughter’s confidence, her forgiveness of her daughter’s inconsideration and her love and intelligence as a mother all impressed me. Waiting no more, I handed the fortunate dumpling back to her respectfully and gave her a hug which I had owed her since long ago.
There was no such thing like lucky dumpling in the world. It was her who made the miracle happen to me. From then on, my favorite was still the inviting dumplings, but I no longer need to eat “fortunate” dumplings, because I have already got mine, my sweet and beloved mother.
picture: 1."homemade dumplings" from xiapu.com
2."dumplings" by feixue from bbs.ssfeng.com
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