Put aside all work in the countryside to look after my grandchild, drove all day to get there, just stepped through the door and was looked down upon by my in-laws.

When my daughter gave birth, she begged me to leave all the fields and farm work in the countryside to come to the city to help take care of her. I thought it was right, this was her first grandchild, shouldn’t her grandmother be close by?

After a whole day of shaking in the car, exhausted, as soon as she stepped into the in-laws’ house, the mother-in-law sniffed and rolled her eyes:

–  “What a terrible smell, it stinks and makes me nauseous!”

I was stunned. I knew she had always looked down on the country people, and now she was deliberately being sarcastic. My anger rose, I didn’t argue, just called my son-in-law out, put  a sack  from the countryside in his hand, and silently turned the car around and left.

No one knew what was in the sack, only to see the son-in-law covering his face with a grimace. When the mother-in-law curiously opened it, it  turned out to be full of local specialties: live free-range chickens, tail-wagging river fish, several kilos of green-legged shrimp, and a whole basket of fragrant golden sticky rice.

That musty smell was the smell of the countryside, something I had carefully brought up for my daughter to nourish herself after giving birth. But when I opened the bag, the whole room was filled with the smell, and  my mother-in-law fainted right in the middle of the house .

When she woke up, she was trembling and pointed at her son-in-law:
“  Quickly bring your mother-in-law here! Without her, no one in this family knows how to cook properly, even I am jealous.”

It turned out that after a few days of my absence, my mother-in-law realized that the food on the street, though luxurious, could not compare to the sweet crab soup or the fragrant braised fish with galangal that I had cooked. From then on,  she was eager to welcome me back and serve me every meal.

As for me, I just smiled slightly:
–  “In life, contempt or respect, sometimes only a meal away.”

The Price of Contempt

That day, I returned to my hometown, still filled with resentment. All my life I had been used to working hard in the fields, my body had become hardened to the sun and wind, but when I set foot in my in-laws’ house, I was looked down upon just because of the “country smell” that clung to me. I thought to myself: “Well, since they don’t need me, I won’t force them. The fields and gardens are still there, why should I lower myself?”

The first few days, I was also worried about my newborn daughter, afraid that she wouldn’t be able to manage on her own. But I believed that everything would become clear.

The days without rustic hands

In the city, there was plenty of food, just order it and you’d have it. But none of it was to my mother-in-law’s taste. Meals were all canned food, cold food, fancy restaurants, but bland and greasy. Even my daughter – who had just given birth and needed to abstain – shook her head in dismay.

The granddaughter cried at night, the daughter was pale, and the mother-in-law was grumpy all day. The maid only knew how to cook simple dishes, and did not understand how to stew bones to make broth sweet, cook sticky rice porridge with green beans for a woman who had just given birth, or braise fish with galangal to fill the stomach.

The more the mother-in-law realized, the more she realized that the musty smell that she criticized was actually the rustic flavor that made a real home.

Late Apology

One afternoon, when my son-in-law called me, his voice was trembling:
“Mom, please forgive me. I know you’re angry, but my wife is very weak. Without you, this house is in chaos. Please come back… we need you.”

I was silent for a long time. Then my daughter’s voice rang out on the phone, choking:
“Mom, please. Only you can take care of me.”

What mother’s heart can bear it? I packed a few things and went back to town, this time not because of begging or coercion, but because of the love for my daughter and grandchild.

A meal to resolve hatred

That afternoon, I walked into the kitchen. In just a moment, the cold house was filled with the smell of home-cooked rice: the smell of galangal and lemongrass mixed in the pot of braised fish, the sweet smell of field crab soup, a bowl of young green boiled spinach, and a bowl of fragrant fish sauce with garlic and chili.

The mother-in-law sat down at the tray, picked up a piece of fish and tearfully said:
– “Sister-in-law… I was wrong. I misspoke, I misjudged. From now on, don’t leave again. Without you, I know I’m nothing.”

I just smiled gently, and gave her another piece of braised meat:
“In life, respect or contempt, sometimes only a meal separates us, ma’am.”

Conclusion

From that day on, the mother-in-law’s attitude changed completely. There were no more sarcasm, but instead there was respect and gratitude. She often told her friends: “I am very lucky to have a mother-in-law who is both talented and capable.”

As for me, I am still the same: simple, rustic, but I feel light inside. Because I know that my value does not lie in my clothes or the scent of my perfume, but in the hands that prepare meals and nurture family happiness.