Continued from Following the breadcrumbs:
Still smarting from Heinrich’s infidelity, Yry strengthened her mask of unapproachability. Yet, she kept crossing the path of a young accountant called Yuan Chang. He never failed to compliment her in some small way. She was used to ignoring male attention.
“That hair style is very becoming, Yry,” he would half whisper with a winning smile. Or “What a beautiful dress!” It was often a dress she had designed and sewn for herself, which doubled the compliment. She began to look forward to his warm gaze from across the room. He seemed like such a decent man, so serious, so different from Heinrich. His sincere attentions soothed her prickles.
Yuan asked her to join him for dinner. She demurred several times, but one warm spring morning she arrived at work flushed and enervated from a brisk walk to the office. The air was particularly fragrant, full of the portentous richness of blossoms on the threshold of bursting open. She felt so peaceful and at ease that she shocked herself and Yuan by finally accepting his dinner invitation. The rest of the day jerked by slowly. She argued with herself repeatedly about the fine mess she’d gotten herself into. With trepidation she watched the clock ticking nearer to what she knew would be an uncomfortable evening.
To her surprise the evening sped by. Yuan dazzled the dinner conversation with tales of his family, his life, the countries he’d seen, his work. He spoke about life in China and about his parents who had saved up their money so that he could go to school and have a solid profession. Dinner was followed by shared lunches and more dinners out. He was so easy to talk to, so kind, so interested in her! In his quiet, non-threatening manner he drew Yry out of herself in a way no one had before. He had studied poetry and religion, history and politics. They talked about philosophy, about love and loyalty and war and peace. No topic was too large or too deep for them to discuss. He took her to Chinese restaurants and explained how the food was different from his mother’s delicious home-cooked meals. On weekends they visited the World’s Fair. She fell madly and passionately in love with Yuan.
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- Statuary World’s Fair 1940
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- Miniature Garden Japanese Pavilion World’s Fair 1940
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- Chinese Temple World’s Fair 1939
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- A god in a Chinese Temple 1939
At World’s Fair in a coat I made. 1940
(Yry’s hand writing on the back of each image)
Rangewriter 
Maybe I’m just suggestible but she even looks a tad Chinese in that last photo. And that was a nice setup, popping in and out of that conversation you had with her in later years. Adds some extra depth to this story.
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Wow, I never saw that. But I think I can see what you’re seeing in the photo. A suggestibility!
I’m glad to know that little side commentary didn’t disrupt the flow and leave you confused. This is wonderful feedback, Dia. Don’t be afraid to lay it on with the stuff you don’t like as well as the stuff you do like. 😉
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You got it. 🙂
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“He was so easy to talk to, so kind, so interested in her! In his quiet, non-threatening manner he drew Yry out of herself in a way no one had before. He had studied poetry and religion, history and politics. They talked about philosophy, about love and loyalty and war and peace. No topic was too large or too deep for them to discuss.. . . ”
Yuan Chang, he must have been a very interesting man to have a conversation with!
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Yes. I ca easily understand why my mother was smitten. Especially in those times when men were not encouraged to LISTEN to women, but to “guide ” them. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts Auntyuta!
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I think I told you before, Linda, that your mother reminds me a lot of my own mother. This makes your writing extra interesting for me.
What you say about the behaviour of men towards women I find very interesting too. It is special, I think, if someone is willing to listen, really listen, to what my ideas or thoughts are. A lot of people just want to tell you about their own thoughts and are not prepared to spend time listening. It is reciprocal, I think. If someone is a good listener, I should also try to be a good listener when the other wants to say something.
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Thanks, Auntyuta. I always enjoy hearing from you. I have been struck more than once about the parallels in our history…albeit a generation and an ocean removed. I marvel at the internet and the blogoshere which makes these connections possible.
I remember once reading or hearing something about the way to make a person fall in love with you is to look into their eyes when they are talking. I’m not sure about the love part, but I do know that where our eyes go is also where our minds go. To have someone looking into your soul as you speak is intoxicating.
And listening…yes, I still chastise myself for not listening carefully enough…especially in the midst of a debate.
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Good to see you bashing on with your mother’s story, as so many people give up. There are times it must be difficult, I know, but it must be worth it when you read all the comments. I enjoyed this latest episode very much and love the photo of your mother. She looks so elegant.
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Thanks, so much Bryan. You’re right, it is difficult to proceed, especially the closer I come to my own appearance in the story. Yeah, I know, I’ve been narrating all along, but at a distance. There are troubling events coming and my marriage to facts has to grapple with what I simply don’t know. It will be challenging. It’s funny I do get some nice comments on the story, but some of my other esoteric posts pull in a more diverse crowd of commenters. It’s a loyal bunch that sticks with this slog.
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What a stunning image= your lovely mother in a classy coat that she made. She was very talented!
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Yesco, I will never forget her sewing projects. Slip covers for wing-backed chairs and Queen Anne couch with piping,and matching full length curtains…all done on a tiny, antique, portable singer sewing machine!
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She had a strong left brain-right brain balance! But it also takes talent as well as experience. Those old sewing machines were icons – my mother had an interesting one, and she sewed a little, but nothing like your mother’s creations!
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Linda, I love Yry’s picture by the statue. What a lovely multicultural courtship. I love the daily compliment ritual. Keith
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Now Keith, don’t you go fallin’ in love with my mama! 😉 Seriously, thanks for reading. It’s easy to see why Yuan caught my mother’s heart.
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I read Lisa’s comment and she agrees with Yuan and me. So, I guess we all think she was lovely.
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I can understand why Yry fell for Yuan. Unfortunately I know how it ended, since I read the next post before this. That photo of her at the World’s Fair is gorgeous.
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I think I got my posts a little out of order. Sorry about that. Thanks for sticking with the story. That is real loyalty. It’s funny, I never thought my mother was attractive when I was a kid. She was always so old fashioned. Silly me.
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No, you didn’t get the posts out of order. I was me reading them out of order. 🙂
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