Ling
Author
I haven’t been shopping at the mall since the beginning of COVID-19. Even though today I wear comfortable shoes, my feet still feel tired after two hours of walking. So I walk into a massage shop at a corner of the mall to get a foot massage. I throw my body into the soft couch. A plump masseuse brings a wooden bucket and fills half of it with hot water.
She had bright eyes on her round, smiling face. She gestured for me to put my feet in the hot water. A moment later, a comfortable, warm current flowed from my feet to my whole body; I took a big deep breath, put my head on the chair, and started to enjoy it.
About 15 minutes later, the masseuse returns and sits on a stool before me. She takes my foot out, dries it, and massages it. Her soft touch makes me start to feel sleepy.
“Would you like me to cut these calluses?” I open my eyes and see my masseuse stroking the calluses on my toes.
“Yes, please!” I answer.
She takes a unique scissor to be careful cutting the callus. I watch her work with worry.
Maybe she feels my nerves; she glances at me, then asks me as she gently cuts off a callus and smiles, “Do you often wear ill-fitting shoes?”
“No, they are from when I wore high heels a lot when I was younger,” I reply with a slightly embarrassed smile, expressing my nervousness.
“I see!” she considerately says.
After Seeing her skillful and gentle operation, I relax and put my head on the chair again. The spa’s massage music and her gentle, rhythmic movements make me drowsy.
Clickety-clacking, Clickety-clacking, with the sound of high heels, I am walking into an office in a hurry. My feet feel tired; I want to take off my shoes to relax them. Clickety-clacking, Clickety-clacking, the high heels sound like a drum beat, urging me to go faster and keep going.
Then, as if it weren’t me, my daughter Rina was wearing a graduation hat and dress, holding a pair of beautiful crystal high heels in her hand, limping towards me.
I hurried walking to her.
“Do you have a Band-Aid with you, mama?” she asked, but now Rina was wearing a wedding dress and showing me her feet; the beautiful high heels scuffed her feet. I knew I didn’t have a Band-Aid in my bag, but I still emptied everything out of my bag anyway, hoping I could find something to help her. “Please raise another foot for me.” I woke up and stared at the masseuse blankly.
The masseuse touched my right foot to tell me she finished it and needed me to give her the left foot.
Then she massaged gently and rhythmically again.
I recall the strange dream I just had. What’s the meaning of the dream?
My feet had many calluses from wearing high heels, so I wouldn’t like my daughter’s feet to have calluses like mine. I first bought her high heels because she graduated from university, and she needed to wear high heels for her graduation ceremony. Even though she walked through the stage only a few steps, her feet still got hurt.
Then my little girl, a young lady like her mother, had to wear high heels, clickety-clacking, and walk everywhere for her career. She walks more and more steadily. I almost forgot that she once couldn’t walk in high heels.
Just last month, she got married; at the wedding, the shiny high heels shoes made her feet bloody, and I did nothing to help. I watched with distress as she struggled to keep her balance and walked to her bridegroom.
My sweetheart, my baby girl, your life must be better than your mother’s because you are a strong woman.
Suddenly, she staggered, and I wanted to rush forward to help her.
“Oops!” I cry
“I hurt you?” I just returned to my senses when I heard the masseuse asking me nervously
“No, you didn’t. I was lost in my thoughts.” I see the masseuse is still concerned, looking at me.
I explained to the masseuse that I wanted to protect my daughter’s feet and never wanted her to wear high heels, but now she has to wear them every day.
“I understand your worry.” The masseuse says, “Parents can only watch their children’s backs. All roads, easy or difficult, must be walked by themselves.”
“Yes, we can only be the moon on a cold night at most to help brighten the road when they run,” I say.
The masseuse heard what I said. She needed clarification.
“It is a story my father told me when I was a little girl,” I say, smiling.
“Would you like to tell me? I want to tell my son; he is 12 years old.” the masseuse asks. “He will finish primary school but doesn’t like studying.”
“Of course, no problem! I am happy to.”
I start telling the story:
One cold winter night, the Moon was bright. There was a Rabbit; she was cold to shiver.
The poor baby Rabbit cried to the Moon, “Would you warm me? Please!!”
The Moon said, “My child, I am not the Sun; I cannot warm you. But I can light the ground for you, and I see that on the other side of the grass, there is a haystack. You could run faster across the field and then hide in the haystack, and you would be warm.
So the baby Rabbit ran as fast as she could; the Moon smiled and watched her, brightening her road and directing her.
Because of the Moon’s company, the little Rabbit wasn’t afraid of being alone.
Because of the Moon’s light, the little Rabbit ran fast.
The baby ran and ran; she didn’t know when she was warm. She didn’t feel cold anymore; she had stopped shivering and even became hot and sweaty.
She saw the haystack, arrived at it, and ran into it. She was warm and fell asleep. She was smiling; maybe she had a sweet dream.
The Moon still hangs brightly in the sky like a silver plate; maybe other animals need her light, ” I concluded the story.
“Yes, for our children, parents could only the Moon.” With a little sigh, the masseuse said, “I would tell my son the story and tell him that he has to run by himself to find his haystack.”
“Your son is too young; he would grow and understand you.” I relievedly her.
“Thank you so much!” the masseuse says. Please stand and sit on the stool, and let me massage your back, arms, and head.
Finally, the masseuse knocked my back with her fist and played the drum rhythmically to end my massage session.
I feel so good. The masseuse is fantastic. After relaxing my body and cutting the ugly calluses, I felt my feet were light and could fly.
“Thank you so much. I am sure you are the Moon.”
I am also sure my daughter is more intelligent and wise than I am. She will find a pair of beautiful high heels that are a nice fit for her.
