Category Archives: Innocence Lost

What you’d learned, was not just the guilt, and the lessons of life too, and you’d learned it at a very young age, and you’d, remembered the lesson, to HEART, because you’d not just taken something away that someone cared dearly, you’d also, killed the living thing, and that’s something you must carry with you for the rest of your, life…translated…

Secretly I’m Glad, that Stealing WAS, a Passage of Life in Coming of Age, & It’d Reminded Me of that, Cocoon…………

November of last year, I’d gone to the theatre to see the film, “Left-Handed Girl”, after the movie, we were both in awe at how the child actress, Yeh made the protagonist, Zi-Chi come to, life.  And yet, what stuck in my throat that I’d wanted to tell my boyfriend was, that even though I wasn’t, left-handed, I’d also, stolen things like the protagonist, Yi-Jing when I was a, child too, with a “devil’s hand” that keeps on doing the evil deeds.

The Weirdest Thing I’d Stolen in My Childhood Years

So, how old was I when I first stolen something?  I actually can’t recall my exact age.  I’m guessing that I must’ve been four, or five, the age when the sense of morality began, forming, because before then, the boundaries of “stealing” didn’t exist yet.  What belonged to me, and what belonged to, others—I’d needed to know how to differentiate, that was when the desires of stealing surface.  The cookies brought by the classmate sitting next to, me, the pastel colored pretty, glowing stationery, school supplies…………the more I knew what wasn’t mine, the more I’d wanted to possess, them.

As I got my hands on the items, what did I do with them?  There was no way I could’ve, openly used what I took that wasn’t, mine, I’d stealthily put what I’d stolen into my pockets, then, the guilty, combined with the anxiety, started, circling around in my, mind: did someone see me just now?  will mom find out?  And so, those “trophies” I’d stolen, can only be placed together, and stored, someplace, unknown to others but, me.

Thinking back, the school supplies, the snacks, the toy bracelets, were probably what the children in the elementary school years stole.  But recalling it now, the weirdest thing I’d ever stolen was, a cocoon.

At roughly about third, or fourth grade, there was an etymology instructor, who’d come every Wednesday to the lectures of the group meetings to teach us on “life science”, taught us the knowledge of living things, sometimes, he’d brough the insects that he was keeping for us to observe.  My mom sat in a couple of times, and thought that he was excellent in instruction, then signed me up for his private courses at his own, home.  Because the teacher kept large numbers of insects, reptiles, going to his house meant I got to see more snakes, turtles, and insects, too, to from time to time, he’d taught us how to make insects into specimen, taking us with our lanterns, out to the mountains to catch the insects ourselves.  But, to prevent us, bratty children from messing things up, he’d disallowed us from going upstairs in his house to his room to observe the living things he’d, kept—thinking back to it now, he was more than reasonable, disallowing us to go.

One time after the lessons, as the other students had all left, only I remained in class.  He saw that I had nothing to do, and, broken his own rules, allowed me to go to the second, third floor of his home, the space where he’d kept his, creatures.  I was curious, looked all around me, the snake aquariums stacked to the ceiling, there’s that air of pungent, excitement in the air————to this very day, I’d already, forgotten what kind of reptile, insects he had there, only remembered that there was a corner reserved for the insects, I saw a really beautiful cocoon I’d never seen, before.  The cocoon glowed of, gold, with the light that moved on it, it’d glowed that golden luster.  Something took over me, as the instructor wasn’t paying attention, I’d, extended my hand, and wrapped my hands around that, cocoon.

illustration from UDN.com

That cocoon was the, weirdest thing I’d ever, stolen, also the time that I’d, regretted the, most too.  Because that cocoon never, became anything else.

I’d observed it day after day, until it’d gone past the time when it was supposed to, break out.  I’d placed it by my window, prayed that the butterfly can come out of it—but, that cocoon started, withering out, drying up, what caused me to steal it, the pretty glow was gone, instantaneously then.

Seeing My Desires in All Honesty

I’d thought that my teacher had kept so many living things, that he wouldn’t note that the cocoon was, missing.  But he had, he’d told my mom, helplessly, that a cocoon of his had been, stolen, that he’d suspected me.  When my mother turned to ask me, I’d, admitted, it.

Right at the moment when the cocoon died, it was that moment of truth, that my stealing it was, a huge, mistake.  Not only because I wasn’t supposed to have my hands on someone else’s belongings, but because I was shocked to realize, that this “thing” I’d stolen, wasn’t just something nonliving, that it was originally a cocoon, with life under my instructor’s, care, and I wasn’t worthier than my instructor to, own, it.  He had hundreds of other living organisms he was looking after, but, this tiny a cocoon being missing, he’d still, noticed it.  And I, even if I had a stolen cocoon, I’d not known how to care for it, couldn’t help it grow inside and break out into its metamorphosed state.

I think, that was the very last time I’d, stolen anything.  My mother took me to the instructor, had me apologized to him, and he’d lightly joked about it, and brushed it all, past.  And up to current times, my mother would still talk about this, complained that I was really a trouble maker for her.  And thinking back, I’m really glad that the instructor found it, otherwise, at the tender age of eleven, I’d had to, withstand the death of a butterfly that’s, trapped in a, cocoon all by my, self, that if he’d not found me out, I would’ve, had to, carry this secret by myself, and not told anyone.

A few days ago, I’d listened to the podcast “The First Choice of Commute of Taiwan”, because the daughter of the host, Cheng-Cheng is at that age of stealing things from her classmates, and the listeners started calling in to tell the host about their own individual experiences of stealing things.

The host told, that what scared him the most, was that sense of loneliness after he’d stolen something.  So as he’d found that his daughter had taken something from a classmate, he’d told her seriously: you know the hairclip wasn’t yours, you will feel nervous.  You will think of it constantly, would someone realize, that this wasn’t, mine?  You won’t dare wear it to school, and can, only place it under your, pillow, worrying that mom and dad will find out.  You will be on edge all day long, because you took something that you loved, that doesn’t, belong to, you.  And maybe, you will come across a situation like this one, but you must remember how you feel at this very moment.

Hearing the words that the host said to his own daughter, I’d felt very glad, that maybe, taking things that aren’t ours is a part of coming of age that’s absolutely, necessary, it’d also reminded me of that, cocoon.

Thinking closely, this was not a memory about stealing, or maybe, it’s more about, honesty instead.  Honestly, I’d seen my own desires, then, I’d, honestly, let it, go—because in some moments of our, lives, we were once, that cocoon that relied solely on someone else, and prayed, that we get to, meet up with someone who’s, honest, who loved us as we metamorphosed, more than their needs to, possess, us.

So, many of these lessons in our lives, we don’t even realize, that we were, learning, or at the moment, when it’d happened, we were still, way too young to understand, to comprehend the meaning of what we were, learning, until when we’re much, much older, and an instant came, and it all came, flying back to us, and then, we realized, what we learned back when we were younger, was for this moment’s time.  That’s how life works sometimes…