Joseph leaned lazily against the windowsill watching the sun set in the distance. A grey Volvo carrying the next-to-last remaining boarder back home for Canadian Thanksgiving sped away down the driveway across lower fields towards the lone highway leading south to Toronto. Joseph playfully squinted his eyes to make out the outline of the vehicle, shrinking gradually in the distance, against the waist-high white posts with red painted tops that lined the long, winding driveway like loyal school guardians bidding farewell to the departing party. The Maples shook courteously against the late afternoon wind as the car exited the school gate, waving a last heart-felt goodbye. The rustle of them died away as the matchbox car disappeared into the sunset. Then there was dead silence; the rowdy boarding house that usually rocked with music, laughter and screams was reduced to a haunted house where the drop of a needle could ring through the length of the long corridor. Joseph awaited his father, who could only make the journey north to retrieve his son after his long work day in downtown Toronto. Joseph never complained, and had instead long ago gotten used to and loved the silence, a precious and secluded time and space for contemplation. Taking a deep breath, Joseph continued to stare outside as the setting sun played his only silent companion, warmed his face gently with a blow of radiant orange. The familiar triangle grass field in front of the boarding house where countless footsteps were scattered about suddenly took on an eerie solemnity in subdued loneliness; Joseph stared at sections of footsteps now half-covered by long tree shadows, recalling the bygone activities that have left their indelible marks.“Joseph! Sorry, dad is late again,” Wah-hong breathed heavily after climbing the steps hurrily to Joseph’s room on the second floor. A tender smile wrapped his otherwise tired face. “Dad! Actually you are early today,” Woke from his contemplation, Joseph remarked merrily and grabbed his long prepared duffel bag stuffed with spiral notebooks, textbooks and unwashed laundry. “No, dad is late, just not as late usual,” Wah-hong laughed heartily, flung Joseph’s duffel bag over his shoulder and headed towards their car with Joseph. Wah-hong stole a long glance at his beloved son walking beside him, secretly relieved that Joseph had grown and matured safely and surely away from home. Though convinced that a well established private boarding school was the best education for Joseph, it was never easy for Wah-hong and Ling-lai to part from their young son.
As the car sped along the highway towards Toronto, Joseph stared blankly out of the passenger’s side window at the scenery flashing by like a moving picture at double speed, The Canadian Fall color was at its full glory; the trees had shed their outer garments, lavishly layering coatings upon coatings of multi-color leaves on the ground. Lindens and Oaks, of course, used their shear sizes to impress with their large volumes and coverages, but the slender Birches and Mulberries swayed in their unique dances, drawing attention to their fallen lots. But it was the Canadian Maples who did the best work and highlighted the cool earth with a multitude of red shades. Joseph quietly retrieved one such leaf from his left jacket pocket and admired it; by touching and feeling a discarded leaf, Joseph felt he was breathing and growing with the boundless natural world that lived and regenerated itself continuously till eternity. "We're almost home, Joseph," Wah-hong spoke blissfully as he drove on, "looking forward to mom's dinner?" "You bet," Joseph smiled broadly. "Mom's cooking is the best."
When Wah-hong and Joseph arrived home, Ling-lai was just about finished preparing their Thanksgiving dinner. Replacing the Canadian traditional turkey was a roasted duck from the Chinese market; turkey was much too dry for Chinese's taste. Also on the dinner table was a freshly steamed fish sprinkled generously with slice ginger and scallion and seasoned with soy sauce and hot cooking oil, stir-fried Chinese broccoli heavy with garlic, and easy tossed jumbo shrimps with ketchup and Chinese wine. "Come on, come on. Wash your hands and come over. Dinner's best when it's still hot," Ling-lai wiped her forehead as she welcomed her family home. Wah-hong and Joseph took their place at the table with wide eyes; a feast as such was a much too rare affair. Living in Canada meant diligently following local customs and culture to the Chang's, and celebrating Thanksgiving was one they were delighted to oblige. Unexpectedly, Joseph asked inquisitively, "Can I say a prayer before dinner, mom? We do that at school before set lunches," The question slightly startled both Wah-hong and Lin-lai at they looked at each other. Wah-hong broke into a gentle smile, "Please do, Joseph. Pray for us." The family closed their eyes and held hands awkwardly for the first time as Joseph spoke these words:
God grant us the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.
"Thank you Joseph. That was wonderful." Wah-hong was amazed how Joseph was growing up before his eyes. He smiled as the family ate quietly.
