This composition is by a student in the English for International Teaching Assistants course, which meets twice a week in the Seminar Room at International House.
One of the most pleasant memories that emerges when I begin to wander into the reminiscences of my childhood is about my old record player. (I miss you. I will miss you all my life!)
That record player of mine was the first birthday present from my parents that I can recall. I still remember how excited I was when I found out that the player could "read" out the records! I scrutinized one of these records very thoroughly, but I could not figure out in my very young mind how in the world it stored "voice." I was so excited that I could not go to sleep. The following days, I spent almost all of my time listening to the music and stories it played for me. I marveled at how wonderful such a thing in the world was! You know, at that time, record players were very scarce in China, especially in the countryside where I lived.
It was also that record player which introduced another language-in this case, English-to me. I learned my ABCs from the records when I was just six years old. It was, however, not a very pleasant experience. I remember I quit several times and would not have returned to the task if it had not been for my parents' insistence.
The player revealed a whole new world to my young ears and eyes. Not only did it teach me language, it also showed me the magnificent world of music. I should say I often felt lonely during those times but never upset because music supported me whenever I was in need. My dearest friend-music-was introduced to me by my old record player. This is why I should be deeply grateful to both my parents and their present to me.
That player accompanied me through most of my childhood until when I went off to high school. It stopped working after so many years of "talking and singing" to me. I was extremely regretful that I should have to let it have a rest. It was tired, and, at last, it should retire.
I did not send it to any repair shop or person. I did not even let my father touch it, though he was an electrical engineer. In my deep heart, my record player was not a machine; it was my friend whom I had been able to rely on for many years.
It has been a long time now since I stored my old player in a box. Several times, my mother wanted to throw it away but I wouldn't consent. I insisted that it should be preserved as a souvenir of my past, of my childhood. In fact, it will never be thrown out of my heart.
(Yan Huang is a graduate student from China, studying Applied Mathematics.)