Hello, I’m Zhou Ping, a retired primary school teacher.

 

Last winter, my right hand suddenly went weak, and I struggled to speak clearly, my tongue feeling tied. I was diagnosed with a cerebral infarction. As much as I was grateful to be given another chance at life, at the same time, as a teacher who had relied on expressing myself clearly through my voice and neat blackboard handwriting all my life, I fell into despair. I couldn’t even call my granddaughter’s name.

 

It wasn’t until my daughter pushed my wheelchair and brought me here that things changed. The acceptance I felt here helped me let down my guard and taught me to take the first step in rebuilding a supportive social circle. At first, I couldn’t speak clearly, so I used hand gestures and scribbled notes to tell my daughter I wanted to read old textbooks again. To the friends in my support group, I also gestured that I had no strength to hold a pen and wanted to ask for advice.

 

My daughter understood my wish and brought my old textbooks, reading the familiar poems page by page. Her reading awakened the memories deep in my heart. My friends saw my struggles, accompanied me as I practiced holding a pen, and applauded when I wrote my first character. My granddaughter even said that it was my unique handwriting. For someone who had spent her whole life teaching others, it was really hard to let others help me learn. But when I let go of my pride, I found that no one around me laughed at me; instead, they were more than willing to help. It turned out that I had been the one holding them back.

 

I want to share my experience to let others know not to tough it out alone. Taking the initiative to show your vulnerability and asking for help from those around you is the beginning of rebuilding support. Now, I can walk slowly and my speaking has gradually improved, and I know I didn’t walk this path alone. Thank you to everyone who has helped me.