By next Friday, my childhood memory will be removed for the rest of my life. How should I begin and write about my past that's both sweet and sour?
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"Pei, go in now," Mama said in the most comforting way trying to coax me into following the strange woman standing by the door, "I will come and pick you up in the afternoon when you are done. I promise you."

I stood there, feeling totally abandoned by Mama, just like the rest of the children there. "I am not that special to anybody after all," I thought to myself. Tears rolled down my cheeks. The thought of being left alone to deal with all of these people and the fact that nobody is here to pity me made me feel even more desperate, and I begin to wail.

First day at the kindergarten didn't go well at all.

Being in the kindergarten where all the children's parents are healthcare workers, our food and snacks were designed to be very nutritious, which in another word, they are bound to taste bad. First day snacks were some carrot strips and hard boiled eggs. Everyone seemed to know what to do, and they formed their own little niches to gossip, except me. I bit into my bitter egg as I walked to the corner of the room where nobody was standing. There was a tickling feeling in my nose, the first hint of a powerful sneeze. No, not now. Someone is in front of me, and I still have the egg in my mouth. I must hold it in... I held my breathe hoping it would make the potential sneeze go away. Now the egg yoke part stuck to my throat and choked me. Saliva, tears, and pieces of the egg darted out like bullets by their own will aiming directly at the face of the boy in front of me. Gasp. It happened just like how I had pictured it in my head a second ago.

"Little Pei! What just happened? Say sorry to him." The teacher rushed over as soon as they heard the boy's whimpy cries from the shock of this unfortunate event.

I apologized against my will. It wasn't really my fault! I couldn't control my sneeze. If only you could be me, then you would see how I might struggle for air as I choke and die. Then, you would be sorry for it. Ashamed and embarrased, I retreated to my little corner in the room and stayed there for the rest of the day until Mama came to rescue.
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We just had a lesson on the life cycle of general frogs and a demo with preserved frogs from different stages. The teachers took us on a little field trip to the pond by the hospital to catch some tapoles. Some dragon flies tapped their tails on the surface of the pond that was filled with green hairy algae on the bottom, and water spiders spread their long limbs and glided across the surface creating ripples every time they made a stroke.

My turn to use the little net. I stoop down on one of the rocks around the pond and dipped my net into the turbid water. The tadpoles swam to the edges of the rocks as soon as they perceived the gigantic object coming over their heads. Despite the fact that they could hide pretty well, a human child still has greater coordination than a baby frog does. I managed to catch quite a few of them until the teacher sent down the order of taking no mor than four tadpoles. You need to be merciful to them. Don't take all of them away from their homes. Keep them here so that they can continue to grow and keep the population going. I kept four of the happiest and most robust tadpoles and placed them into a bag filled with clean water.

"Mama, look at what I have!"
"What?"
"Tadpoles!" I said with all the excitement in my voice, "Can we keep them with the goldfish, please?"
"Eh. No. What do we need the tadpoles for?"
"They can grow up into frogs and eat the mosquitoes in the house for us! That's what the teacher told us in class today. Then I will never get mosquito bites again. They will be good pets. They will not jump everywhere. Please?" I begged her as I watched her reluctant face softened up a little.

The four healthy tadpoles lived happily with my two goldfish in the little round bowl tank by the entrance of the apartment. I would come home every day and stand there to look at my baby tadpoles to see if they have grown. First, there were little knobby things coming out from the behind on the sides of the tail. Their hind legs grew, and their front legs began to form. I watched them with patience and fascination. All of these things were happening just like what the teachers said to us during class. Grow, grow, grow. Front legs now. You are going to become frogs soon. Then, their tails began to shrink and became somewhat translucent. My tiny tadpoles were growing at a fast pace. My heart pounded every time I visited them. Is it time yet?

One day, getting back from kindergarten, I noticed that my tadpole's tails were almost gone. They were short, stubby, and somewhat translucent. My tadpoles are becoming frogs! It's time! It's time! I cried out loud to get Mama's attention away from the kitchen so that I would be able to share my joy with her.

"Look, they are becoming frogs!"

She frowned. She went back to the kitchen and came back with a cup to scoop my babies out. I was confused and puzzled wondering what she was doing. They are not frogs yet. They can't catch the mosquitoes yet. I followed her back to the kitchen and witnessed the most heartbreaking action ever in my entire life. Thump. She discarded my tadpoles into the garbage can without any mercy.

"Mama! You just dumped them into the garbage can! Why? They could have helped us to catch the mosquitoes!" Shocked, I cried. They lay there on the top of some rotten cabbage leaves struggling for some air with all their might and fighting for their lives. Slowly and painfully, they died. As a five-year-old girl who had fed the tadpoles for the past few weeks, it was just too much to watch and too complicated to understand. I couldn't comprehend the reason behind her cruel action, yet there was not a comforting word from her mouth to tell me that at least they will be in a better place.

I left the kitchen and went to my room to mourn for their deaths.
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Much more stories to tell...

Maybe later.