The Lychee Tree

The Lychee Tree

In our backyard, there is a lychee tree. Spring comes and it's full of beautiful white flowers. “ They smell sweet! ” says my brother. I look at my mother. She says nothing. I know she must be missing Grandma.

We once had another tall lychee tree. Grandma planted it in the backyard when Mother and Father got married. It came from Grandma's house. Grandma lived in a town far away. She had to take one bus and then transferred to another bus just to see us.

Every May, when the lychees got ripe, Grandma would come. Each time, Grandma would fry lychee balls for us and make lychee wine for my father. Sometimes Grandma would dry lychee fruits. That was Mother's favourite snack since her childhood. Mother put them in a glass jar, so even in winter we could eat dried lychee fruits.

Sometimes my brother and I climbed up and sat in the lychee tree. Grandma and Mother sat under the lychee tree and chatted. When I was in Grade 3, Grandma passed away.

Mother hurried back to Grandma's house. When she came back, she didn't say anything, but looked at the lychee tree. I thought, Grandma was not just Grandma; she was also my mother's mother. A few days later, the lychee tree was blown down in a typhoon. Mother gazed at the fallen tree for a long time.