Love in a paper box full of Mangoes

The mango tree which once stood in our house compound blessed many people. It was as tree planted by the previous owner of our house.

The tree left behind by Mr. Lau gave us plenty of sweet mangoes. We never wanted to sell any. Once it gave us more than 200 mangoes and we gave them all away to those who loved mangoes. We loved mangoes too. A thief did come into our compound one day and took away a gunny sack of the mangoes, ripe and unripe. We came home just in time, but he managed to escape with the gunny over his shoulders while his friend drove away in the escape motor bike. We had wondered why there was a motor bike under the trees in the small lane leading towards the empty lot. then we saw a man running away while we were waiting for our gate to open. He managed to jump over the fence.

Every time I see mangoes I would think of all the paper boxes we Foochows use to bring mangoes or anything, to our loved ones when we travel by train, plane or bus, or even boats.

I used to pack mangoes, fruit by fruit, wrapping them in newspaper into a paper box up to 15kg. While my own personal belongings would be in a small back pack, I could bring our sweet mangoes to Kuching.

Some one had said, a paper box, coming out of the luggage carousel, would definitely be owned by a Foochow!! I smiled. Yes I would be one of the owners.

Love is a paper box full of mangoes, coming out of the luggage carousel, at the airport terminal. It is a very Foochow thing, if I may say so.

Now the mango tree is gone. And mum has left this world more than a year ago.