You have come: A letter from a mother to her daughter in heaven

Author: Fan Xi
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-05-01
Features: A Beijing girl who lived in the world for only 25 years, without the superiority of an only child or a high-ranking official family. She was self-respecting, self-loving, and self-respecting, always considering others. In her short life, she left behind invaluable spiritual wealth and earned the respect of her teachers, classmates, colleagues, and relatives and neighbors. Nearly seven years after the girl passed away, her mother, filled with grief and longing, wrote countless letters to her daughter in heaven, recalling past memories and pouring out her affection. These letters hold great educational value for today's young people and their parents. You Once Lived Here includes over 200 of these letters and poses a serious question to society: Who will pay attention to the vast "vulnerable group" of parents who have lost their children, and how should they spend their remaining years? This book is an educational read that praises family love, cares for life, and promotes the construction of harmonious families. The "main character" Meng Meng, like countless others, once walked this world. She left this life at the height of her youth, and what inspiration will her spirit leave for those who remain? Her mother's relentless letters to her also have a profound impact on the public. On May 1, 2006, a message from a netizen named angelweiyi appeared on Meng Meng's website, highlighting the value and significance of the book You Once Lived Here—A Mother's Letters to Her Daughter in Heaven: "Meng Meng's mother, you are a great mother. Over the years, your messages have kept Meng Meng in our hearts. I didn’t know the lovely Meng Meng before, but after passing by one day, I started coming here. I don’t leave messages, but I keep reading. Because of this, I’ve become better to my own mother and grandmother. I take care of all their expenses. Although my grandmother has many grandchildren, they all ask why I’m so obedient. It’s because I had my own child in 2003 and saw your website, and I realized the greatness of motherhood. No matter what I do as a child, it’s never enough to repay her."
"You’re Really Pretty," Meng Meng: I remember that almost all the sweaters you wore from childhood to adulthood were knitted by Mom. Back then, there were many books about knitting sweaters in bookstores, filled with all kinds of beautiful patterns. I loved buying those books and would rush to knit sweaters with the yarn as soon as I got a new one. Every time I knitted for you, you’d always ask, "Mom, are you almost done?" I’d say, "Mom has to work and cook, so how could I knit so fast?" You’d reply, "Let Dad cook while you knit my sweater quickly." I’d ask, "Why are you in such a hurry? You have plenty of sweaters to wear." You’d immediately add, "I want to wear a new one." Once the sweater was finished, you’d quickly put it on and show it to Aunt Yan. Aunt Yan would always say, "Sun Meng is really pretty." Aunt Ping loved to tease you, and when she did, you’d say, "Sun Meng is vain. This sweater doesn’t look good on me." After hearing that, you’d immediately run home, look in the mirror, and say to me, "Mom, my sweater looks really good. Why did Aunt Ping say it doesn’t look good?" I’d tell you, "Aunt Ping was just teasing you!" Then you’d laugh happily again.
What was particularly amusing was one time when I knitted a sweater for myself. When I put it on and checked the fit in the mirror, you tilted your little head and looked at me in the mirror and said, "Mom, you’re really pretty." I turned around and asked, "Do you like Mom’s sweater?" You nodded and said, "Yes! It’s pretty." Then you pointed to the lower right corner of my sweater and said, "It would look even better if there was a little white rabbit embroidered here." I couldn’t help but laugh. The next day at work, I told my colleagues about your comment, and they were also amused by your childlike innocence. My colleagues said, "That’s just how kids are. They have their own sense of aesthetics."
When you grew up, especially after middle school, you would always go back to your room to do homework after dinner, while I would sit on the sofa in the living room knitting sweaters. When you came out of your room and saw me knitting for you, you’d always say, "Mom, stop knitting. Rest for a bit! You have plenty of sweaters, why are you in such a hurry?" Every time I heard you say that, my heart would warm, and I’d feel incredibly happy. Watching you grow, watching you become more sensible, watching you learn to care for and love me—I didn’t say anything, but inside, I was overjoyed. Child, the words you spoke will stay with me forever. Mom didn’t raise you in vain. Mom didn’t raise you in vain. As long as I had you, as long as I had those words, I was content.
Innocent Words, Meng Meng: When you were over three years old, one day, you and a few other kids were playing in the yard with small shovels, digging in the dirt. Suddenly, one of the kids stood up and said, "Let’s go. We’re not playing with Sun Meng anymore." You were having so much fun that when you saw her pulling the other two kids away, you quickly stood up and said, "Why not play with me? Are you starting a fight?" Aunt Yan was nearby, chatting with some classmates while watching you dig.