IRHS Writers Guild Contest Winner - Nov 1st

As part of our collaboration with IRHS' Writers Guild, we will be publishing the winning submissions of their bi-weekly writing contests on this website. More details about their competitions are available at @irhswriters on Instagram. See below for Nov 1st's selected entry, written by Allenna Tang!

Allenna Tang

Grade 12

Nov 1st, 2022

I scan the sea of brightly colored fruits and vegetables. Slipping past a customer bartering passionately with a cabbage seller, I move swiftly and with a goal in mind: bean sprouts. I can already taste the savoury soup that Mom will make for dinner tonight, topped with the perfect crunch of fresh—

“Excuse me!”

I blink and stare into the eyes of the elderly man I just ran into. Seeing his old age, I quickly look down at my feet. “Sorry, sir...” I stammer, getting ready for a reprimand.

Instead, he laughs kindly, and I look up to see the corners of his eyes crinkle like tissue paper.

“What’s your name, little girl?”

I squint suspiciously. “What’s your name?”

He smiles. “Call me Mr. Tao.”

“Mr. Tao, my mom says I shouldn’t tell strangers my name.”

“Did your mom say you can ask strangers for their name?”

“...No.”

“Maybe you should go find her then.”

“Maybe you should go find your mom then.” I smirk and put my hands on my hips.

“My mom died a long time ago...”

“Oh.” An awkward pause. People push past us as we stand there, and my feet suddenly become exceedingly interesting to look at.

“Go run home to your mom, girl with no name,” he finally says. “She must be waiting for you.”

I expect his face to be stern, but when I look up, I only see sadness.

“Mr. Tao, were you sad when your mom died?”

He pauses. “That’s a big question for a little girl to ask a stranger.” I frown because people are always telling me I’m too little for things, and I don’t feel it’s true at all.

“Hey now,” he says with his palms up, reading my expression. “I never said that it was a bad thing.” And then he thinks for a while, his brow slightly furrowed.

“I was sad. But most of all I was scared. I was about your age when it happened, and I couldn’t imagine my life without my mom.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I do.”

I nod solemnly, and I feel very grown up because that’s what grown ups do when someone says something sad.

“What do you miss most about her?”

He looks less sad now and more so lethargic, like the weight of the whole world has been resting on his frail shoulders.

“I miss her cooking. God, that woman could cook.”

I think of my own mom’s cooking, and I’m brought back to the bustling market surrounding us. Bean sprouts. Soup. My eyes dart around and landed on the stand right behind Mr. Tao, with a mountain of yellow bean sprouts piling up to my head. I can taste the savoury soup with the crunch of fresh bean sprouts on top. I try to imagine what life would be like without it, and this time when I nod solemnly, I really feel it.

“Moms are the best cooks.”

He nods back. “Ain’t nothing else like it.”