He could not speak. My dad said he was infected with some disease when he was young. Later he remained as dumb because his family had no money to send him to a doctor. If he wanted to say something, a strange and creepy sound would come out, like he was crying. He did not know sign language, therefore it was hard for him to communicate with others. He had a kind heart though. People called him ‘Muted Grandpa’ .
The old man picked up cardboards for a living, so he did not look clean at all. His both hands were always covered with dirt and his face and clothes were filthy. Every time when he exchanged cardboards for money, it was his happiest moment. He smiled at every pedestrain passing by, waving his hand hard. It was difficult to understand why he was so excited about it. He then sat on the stairs, enjoying several cigarettes. Sometimes tears might burst from his eyes, maybe because of his precious memories.
The old man’s life was simple. Every day he staggered to the garbage heap, holding a bag and searching for hours. Still, he smiled a lot when getting money and sitting on stairs to smoke. Sometimes he coughed so loudly as if he was about to die.
Once, I visited him with dad. That day was a sunny day, but after entering his home, I was chilled. In the tiny, shabby sub-divided flat, I saw the old man’s loneliness. I saw the wrinkles on his face. It looked like all the pain was written on his face.
Later Muted Grandpa mostly stayed at home due to his health problem. He was lonely, but still kept a faint smile on his face. His neighbours treated him well. He felt grateful but could not utter a word.
He was an old man who picked up cardboards for a living, refusing to live on the dole. Perhaps hardship did not mean so much to him anymore and that was the reason why he wished to look strong in people’s mind. He was ordinary but great.