Holding the bowl carefully, Amber and I swallowed our saliva over and over, glancing at each other, neither daring to sip the sacred broth first.
It wasn't until my mother urged us to wash the dishes that we finally, reluctantly, drank the soup.
It was delicious. I licked the bowl clean, and Amber chewed on the bone scraps, trying to suck out every last bit of juice before spitting them out.
I cleaned the stove and boiled water, bringing it into my mother's room for her to soak her feet.
As she gently caressed her barely swollen belly, she leaned against my father, her face brimming with hope. They mused about my younger brother's future, from choosing his name to imagining his university days and eventual marriage.
I carefully massaged my mother's feet, hearing her voice loftily reach my ears. I looked up at her.
"Angela, make sure you look after your brother. How much money will you give him when he gets married?" Her usually pale, wrinkled face glowed with a rare maternal radiance.
Though I knew her concern was for my brother, I still felt overjoyed.
Excitedly, I replied, "I'll give him everything!"
They were thrilled to hear this, praising me for my thoughtfulness.