Written piece
A Mother's Gift
Juhua (Manna) Liu
Canada
About this piece
It is a story about handmade shoes, migration, and the threads passed from grandmother to mother to daughter. Through war, distance, and language barriers, a family’s love continues to travel across generations.
As the plane descended toward Calgary, I pressed my toes against the embroidered insoles my mother had made for me. I remembered her words before I left China:
“A mother always worries when her child leaves home. But if she can make the road easier, her heart will rest easier, too.”
Warmth felled me.
My first shoes were tiger-head shoes handmade by my grandmother. She believed shoes carried magic.
Soon after my grandparents married, war broke out in China, and my grandfather was sent away to war. My grandmother stayed awake all night making him a new pair of shoes. The next morning, crying silently, she pushed them into his backpack.
She made many more pairs waiting for him to return, but he never did.
When my mother married, my grandmother made two pairs of shoes for her and said, “A child who wears shoes made by her mother will walk steadily wherever life takes her.”
Before I immigrated to Canada, my grandmother held my hand and said, “My eyesight is too poor now. I can no longer make shoes for you.”
My mother gave me insoles instead.
“I cannot make shoes like your grandmother,” my mother said, “but the meaning is the same. With these beneath your feet, you will be safe in your new home.”
In Canada, language became my greatest struggle. I felt blind, deaf, and mute.
Years later, my grandmother passed away. Before she died, she told my mother that my grandfather and I would both be safe because we had worn shoes made by her.
I took out the tiger-head shoes and embroidered insoles. They felt like keepsakes from another life. Holding them in my hands, I thought of my ancestors and my own daughter. I will pass my ancestors’ traditions on to my daughter.