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About WCNP

 

The Good Grandson

 

Meh Sha Lin

 

My name is Meh Sha Lin.  I was named after three relatives, all of them in my mother’s family.  This made my father very unhappy.  He and my mother’s mother fought about what my name would be until I was three months old.

I was the youngest child, and my mother named my three brothers and three sisters, but when my twin sister and I were born, we all lived with my grandmother.  We were born during Ramadan, so we could not be named right away, but my grandmother was already thinking up names for us.  My twin sister died before she could get her name, so my grandmother thought only about naming me.

My grandmother wanted to name me for her father, who was called Lin.  I once asked her why I have his name.  She told me, “I like my father’s first name, so I wanted to give it to you.”  I asked her why, and she said, “Because I love you so much.”  She also gave me my mother’s name Sha, a Muslim name.  And my grandmother gave me part of her own name too.

My father worked long hours, and one day, he came home from work and my mother told him that my grandmother had chosen my name.  It was Meh Sha Lin.  My father was furious.  He said, “Why didn’t you give my name to the boy?  I love my son too.”  My grandmother said, “Listen to me.  Meh Sha Lin is a good name, and he will be a good grandson.  So shut up.”  My father said, “All right.  You will die soon enough, and then I will give him a better name.”

As it turned out, my grandmother lived longer than my father.  My father died when I was only five years old, and my grandmother lived until I was seven years old.  When she died, my mother told me what my father had said, and asked me if I wanted to change my name.  I said, “I will never change my name.  I love my grandmother too much.”

My grandmother’s whole name was Meh Se Lay.  I so loved my grandmother, and she loved me too.  When I was young and I asked her for $5 in Burmese money to buy a cookie, she would give me $10.  Sometimes my mother would hit me and my grandmother would say, “Why do you do that to my grandson?  Leave him alone.”  And she would tell me not to worry.  “Don’t listen to her.  You go to your friend’s house to play.”  I remember my grandmother’s kisses.  She would give me a kiss every year on my birthday, and it was always my favorite present, better than new clothes or toys or cookies.  People would give me presents, but I would wait for my grandmother’s kiss.

Every year on my birthday, I dream of my grandmother.  Even this year, ten years after she died, I dreamed that she came to me to give me a birthday kiss.  She said, “Meh Sha Lin, don’t forget your religion.  Remember to always say thanks to Allah.  I go somewhere now.  Bye.”  I miss my grandmother the most on my birthday.

 

 

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