The A-Gong I Never Met Amy Chantrapanichkul, 11
At the age of eleven, I had lost my father in 1923, but I was determined to stay strong. I had no choice. I was on my way to my maternal grandmother’s home. After losing my father, it had been a difficult two years, but moving to the city from my farm village, Xie-Chun, was a decision I took part in making. A new start and maybe even a job. I was still unsure if I wanted to go to school, or find a job. My mother needed help with finances at home. I had three siblings and she chose to hold onto our land as tight as she could. It was her security blanket. I arrived in Hong Kong and headed to my new home. My grandmother greeted me with open arms, telling me just how much I looked like my older brother. He had stayed with them about a year ago. A couple weeks passed and one day my grandparents seemed to be stepping on glass around me all day. After asking them if anything was wrong, they finally talked. They suggested I change my name to my mother’s surname. Initially, I was taken aback. Then, I was insulted. My father’s name was part of me. It represented who I was. I would never disgrace my late father with such action and shame. I had decided on starting my own business. I figured the faster I start, the quicker I would make money. I was working from a young age, but it would all be worth it. I could help my mother feed my family. To me, that was enough of a reason.
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By age nineteen, my business was in full swing. By the time I was thirty, I had a family and I was making more money than I even imagined. My mother was happy and I was glad for that. Her precious farm land was still intact and under her ownership. When famine hit my mother’s village, I even managed to send 10 kilogram bags of rice to my family each month. My mother used most of it to feed the village. Following the footsteps of my mother, I, myself, began to purchase my own plots of land. As my income flowed in, I bought more and more land. Little did I know, impending danger was coming for me. Communists were beginning to take over China. Those who owned large amounts of land, were their targets. I was a threat to their movement. I was unaware at the time. I was happy and rich, what more could I ask for? A couple months later, the news of my friends’ deaths reached me. They too, had owned an abundance of land. I was next. My friends warned me to flee as fast as I could. So I did. I left my home behind and didn’t look back. Leaving my seventeen nephews in charge of the land, I left with one destination in mind. Thailand. As I fled, I knew the amount of courage I had would determine if I lived to see tomorrow or not. I reached the canal and hesitated. Lined up against the other side of the canal were endless
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