A girl growing up in Saihanba
Green Miracle created by three generations
Green Miracle created by three generations
In places that are far away from where we live, there are countless researchers are working with extraneous efforts only for the dream that we human beings can live on a more beautiful and environmentally-friendly earth.
Today, let’s take a closer look at Saihanba to learn a true and moving story from the mouth of one researcher’s daughter.
First arriving in Saihanba
When I was a little girl just beginning to learn to walk, the most impressive image of my hometown is green mountains crowded by clear rivers and countless vegetation. At that time, my father hadn't graduated from the vocational school, so it is my dearest mom who took care of me and my two younger brothers all day long. When she went to the river to wash clothes, she always took us with her, and we would play and chase after each other in the limpid stream. When the setting sun was covered by the tall mountains, my father would step on the yellow shadow of the street lamp and hurried home, bringing snacks for me and my brothers.
Luxuriant plants and green water were my playmates and made the happiest dreams in my childhood. They are both indispensable part in my life: happy family and harmonious nature. But maybe it is the pattern of life: when I finally realize to cherish the happy time, the happy time has long gone away from me.
My father was assigned to Saihanba the first month after graduation. I once considered that morning as one of the most normal ones in my life, but the reality punched me in the face. The first sight of Saihanba on that morning, in my mind, was out of my wildest imaginations. It looked deserted with barren trees, sandy streams, and run-down huts. My family and I looked at each other in disbelief.
At night, when Saihanba shows us its power by means of strong sandstorm, we realize that the first sight of desolation is not the worst. Outside the window, a sandstorm roared heavily like someone was crying, and my bed shook from time to time. I couldn't sleep all night, looking at the dark and tattered roof, full of fear and anxiety. I did not understand, my childhood playmate, the kindest nature, why in a different place, its face became so ferocious.
In addition to the harsh natural environment that scares me, there is another point that I was not used to was that I can no longer see my parents during the day. Before we got up in the morning, they had already rushed to work in the machinery factory and they didn't get home until late at night when we were all fast asleep. That’s why my brothers and I spent most of our time with our neighbor, a lady in her sixties.
Countless ups and downs in Saihanba
My father, a man always in a firm and warm smile, has just cried for two times all his life, according to my limited memories, and the two occasions occurred both in the Saihanba. The first time is when he saw my poor brother lying in bed, almost strangled to death.
Our whole family guarded him at that night. My mother in the side constantly shed tears, sighed and blamed herself for paying much attention on work and neglecting children, resulting in such an accident. My father sat with his back to us, smoking. I walked over and saw tears of smoke running down his face. That night, Mom and dad had a heated argument. I curled up in bed and heard my mother shouted “Let's go back home! My poor children suffered a lot!”
I especially agreed with her. I want to go home, too. But eventually, we stayed here.
During the period of time my brother had to stay in bed, the neighbor's grandmother often came to tell us interesting stories. From her story, we knew a lot about the history of Saihanba. Four hundred years ago, Saihanba was previously been home to abundant forest resources and high biodiversity. With a cool summer and lush vegetation, the area was set to be a royal retreat. However, deforestation and constant wars turned the area into a desert by the end of the Qing Dynasty. As the forest barrier was gone, sandstorms became more frequent.
Shock is the first reaction towards this narration. I can't imagine this barren desert ever being so green and full of life. Originally this land was also a beautiful paradise, but the destruction of human beings to make it into this scarred desert nowadays. I kind of understood the meaning of my parents' daily work from dawn to dusk: to restore the vitality of this ever-beautiful land.
As for the story about my father’s second cry, it happened in a night of howling sandstorm. At that time, the saplings my father and his research team cultivated for the whole season had just been planted a week earlier. The cold snap came earlier this year, and the sudden drop in temperature and dust that almost covered the whole sky nearly destroyed all the new saplings. The whole night, my father and mother were staring out of the window, glaring at the sand and sighed continuously. My father mumbled and shed tears, all in a scarring silence.
The first time he cried was due to the illness of his own child, and for the second time, he cried for another child called “Nature”.
Back to the brand-new Saihanba
How time flies! In a blink of an eye, 30 years has passed. Today, I set foot on the land of Saihanba again after graduation. Everywhere has changed a lot that I can hardly recognize it. Everyone praises it as the “green miracle”. It has been transformed from barren land to lush forest. Now, the lush Saihanba has become home to thousands of species of flora and fauna for its good environment, and also attracts numerous tourists.
Until today, I finally gradually understand the meaning of my parents’ choice at that time to leave home and participate in the construction of Saihanba forest with extraordinary efforts.
The massive destruction of human being has left an indelible scar on nature, and what my parents have done is to heal the scar on our blue planet with love and care. They use love to water every hopeful sapling, which is the root under this “green miracle”.
