a pair of tickets

Close Reading of the Final Paragraph of “A Pair of Tickets”

For I am a Chinese, reading A Pair of Tickets gives me a sense of familiar recognition but simultaneously vagueness. The war her parents gone through was words of text in my history lesson, and at the same time, my grandparents’ experiences too. Some visible and imperceptible effects of the war have affected hugely on the life of every Chinese, every family, every man and every woman, every child and every elder, the future generations, the society…--and the pivot of Amy Tan’s life and novel. A Pair of Tickets is a short memoir of Amy’s first encounter with her homeland and her two twin sisters that her mother abandoned forty years ago, because of the destructive war. The passage (“Finding my mother in my father’s story…”) of Amy’s mother’s miserable story triggers me, it reminds me of my elder family members. Though I have never tasted the bitterness of suffering, my father and grandparents often talked about their experiences during the war. My grandparents used to hide in bomb shelters beside the paddy field, and they were educated as a Japanese. My father had an impoverished childhood, and he wore pants that were made of America’s aid flour bags. It always gives me a shuddering feeling when I listen to the stories, although the speakers themselves talked smoothly. I guess Amy had the same astoundment when her father was accounting. Imagining the upsetting plight is too unbearable, too desperate. Nevertheless, it is acceptable to assume that Amy was prepared for the coming thrill, since she had asked her father to tell the story in Chinese—the deepest and profoundest language that may be tightly bound with his grief. Furthermore, I consider the instant that Amy brought up the request is a strong point, and at this moment, she had truly become a Chinese. The final paragraph is the most touching part of this novel. After all these years, the three sisters finally met and embraced with tears at the airport. Without any testimonies, they knew each other in their blood. Amy’s father took a picture of them with the Polaroid, and every one waited eagerly while the image develops. In the former passage, we can perceive the dramatic changes of China’s society through Amy’s eyes. However, she could not concurrently behold her sisters and herself by her own eyes, so the Polaroid is important. Then the image showed. Three similar faces that looked like Amy’s dead mother, “Her same eyes, her same mouth, open in surprise to see, at last, her long-cherished wish.” Through Amy’s mother’s whole life, she had always been concerned about her missing twins. Yet, regrettably, she passed away before the discovery of her long-lost children, and could never meet them or hug them. It was really sad, but at least her wish has last. I think the wish may be as simple as it can be, the wish of every mother’s on this planet--hoping her children to grow up well and safe.