An Object of Value

My early childhood memories consists mainly of foggy, erratic images. I have a few memories from the days of my first few years. Mostly, I recollect watching television and playing games with my younger brother, who is two years my junior. There is one object, though, that has stayed with me throughout my young life, lying in my cupboard in most recent years -- my "po-chim".

Back in those days, most newborn babies were given a bolster, more familiarly known to the Hokkiens as a "po-chim". My parents, being indulgent, had bought me several. Every night, they would place me in my crib and arrange my bolsters and pillows about me. They must have meant well, but for a small child, it was like being surrounded by a forest of cushions. So, I would exhaust most of my energy flinging all the paraphernalia out of my crib ... all except for one blue-and-white bolster.

Eventually, my parents got the message. At bedtime, the only bolster placed in my crib was my favorite blue-and-white "po-chim".

When I finally learned to walk, I set myself to perfecting this exciting new skill. All over the house I wandered, meandering hither and thither. Nothing could stop me, be it chair, carpet, door or my parents. And, everywhere I went, so did my bolster, clutched in my hot little fist. Up hill and down dale went my bolster and I, searching for trouble and always finding it.

My brother, as I have mentioned, was born when I as two years old. i knew him for my brother the firs time I set eyes on him. Marching to his crib, I plonked my bolster in it and mumbled, "Baby brother also needs 'po-chim'. " Of course, I never fully relinquished my claim to the bolster. It had been and would always be mine. My baby brother did not really seem to like it anyway.

Later, as I grew older and stronger, my rough play took its toll on my "po-chim". Originally three feet long and plump with stuffing, my bolster ended up being almost empty, with one lone foot of stuffing left. The rest had...