Explore "Snow Falling in Spring" by Ming Li on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
As I am putting the finishing touches on this memoir, twenty-six years have passed since I left China for America. By now, I have lived in both worlds for exactly the same amount of time. To help refresh my memory, I went back a second time to the site of our old courtyard in Beijing.
On that early spring day, an unseasonable snow was falling, but I could see golden daffodils peeking out through the frozen ground. Sitting there once again among the shattered bricks, I felt the past awakening in my mind. There, in the safety of my memory, nothing could be taken from me. And there, I was home again.