Great-grandma's small feet

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A story about the old Chinese custom of bound feet. Written by Avondale College's Wanyi (Annie) Zhou, a finalist in the senior category of Auckland City Libraries' Our Stories Secondary Schools 2009 story-writing competition.

It was a cold day; colder than any other day. The grey cloud covered the beautiful sunshine, not letting any light escape onto Earth. The gentle breeze flew past the trees, buildings, the Great Wall of China, and to me. I shivered, but I had nothing to worry about because I was sitting in front of the fireplace. The heat rushed to me and burnt my skin, but I did not care. The flames of the fire fought against each other for the kindling. The flames roared at one another angrily. The fire's shadow danced around the dim room where I was listening to a story from my Great-grandma, who was sitting beside me by the fireplace. She stared at the fire, her wrinkles were tightly packed together on her forehead, she thought back to her past.

"It was a cloudy day, just like today." She spoke with a soft voice that seemed to wander through the past. She continued while I carefully listened to the only human voice among the roaring of the fire and the whistling of the wind. "I was very young at the time, younger than you I suppose. It was the year 1925; I was three years old. My parents bound my feet. The pain was enormous. I screamed for days and nights; until no voice came out of my small mouth. I had to bear the pain. Every day, my life was like hell."

My eyes were wide open with horror. I trembled with sympathy. My legs would not stop shaking. I had a horrible sinking feeling in my stomach. The pain that my Great-grandma had experienced was something that I could not even begin to imagine. "Years had passed; I could no longer feel the pain. It was the year 1934; I was 12 years old. I could unbind my feet at last. Unfortunately, my feet would always be small because my toes had broken and had been pushed down towards my heel. It was very difficult for me to walk. In the year 1935, when I was thirteen years old, I married your Great-grandpa."

I stared at her with my puerile eyes, not knowing how painful and tearing her life had been. I smiled innocently, and she smiled back. I looked back at the fireplace. The fire was extinguished, leaving the black dust behind. The breeze gently icked them up and blew them away. It was years before I was old enough to understand things. Mum told me about Great-grandma's time; women had to have bound feet to stop them from going outside, and only to stay home. It was a custom for young girls in China, which began in the 10th century and ended in the 20th century. They believed that small feet were beautiful.

I remembered the smile that Great-grandma had given me back then. Now I realise the pain behind her smile. I feel sorry for my Great-grandma and for those people who had experienced bound feet. I am grateful that the custom had changed in the 21st century.

- by Wanyi (Annie) Zhou