I have a little brother, eight years younger than me. He gave himself an English name called Apollo, which I thought a bit strange and funny, but he said the name came from Apollo the Moon Landing mission, and he thought it was cool.
He adored me and always liked to tag along. No matter what I was doing, he would always follow, like a little tail that couldn’t be shaken off. I always ended up teaching him to do the things I do and later surprised to find myself good at teaching little kids.
Figure. Apollo always loved to write and draw at the same desk by my side.
Figure. Apollo always followed me to ball game trainings. He helped to get the balls back and sometimes we trained together.
Many of his first-time-ever-in-life were also accompanied by me, like the first time stepping on the ice, the first time setting a fire, the first time catching a crab, and etc.
I was also his first teacher for piano, swimming, board games and so many more. I believe I have rich repertoire with taking care of kids.
Apollo was under a lot of separation anxiety when he first went to daycare. He didn’t ask for mom, but he asked for me to be his company.
Figure. When I flew back from Australia after VEX competition, Apollo met me at the airport at 4 a.m. with a bouquet.
One summer, I participated in an urban wildlife research activity and had to work in the fields installing infrared thermal cameras for a few days. Apollo insisted on following and promised to help. It was the hottest month in a year, and mosquitoes in the wild field are everywhere. He was wearing long sleeves and long pants despite the hotness, running around me in the field. Every day when we got home, mosquito bites were all over his chubby little face. I felt so concerned and wanted to stop him from going, and I said to him “Look, you are not actually helping me, but you are helping the mosquitos”. My little brother replied with great happiness, “Well, yes, I attracted the mosquitoes, and they are not coming for you”. I was ambivalent about his response with some flattered joy and concerned sadness.
After I left for the United States for high school, we didn’t have much chance to be that close, but I always heard of him showing off that his older brother was capable of anything. When I learned that my almighty power included the trick of “fixing a broken mug with hot glue”, I wished I could fly back and cover his mouth. When I got home for winter vacation, he brought a classmate to me with a box of shattered mug. I was at a loss of words, but anyway I helped them restore the frame of the mug. It was not such a perfect repair that it would still leak and could no longer hold water. Still the two little ones were looking at me with genuine joy in their eyes, and that moment I found a true happiness more than ever.
Every time when summer or winter break comes, I would participate, together with my brother Apollo, in volunteer activities hosted by Little Oak, which is a kindergarten care center we both attended. Even though it has been many years since our graduation, Little Oak will invite alumni families back and organize volunteer activities for public welfare and community service every year. My brother and I have always been involved in it.
I also developed an information management system for the Center to automatically manage volunteer activities with user interfaces in both Wechat mini apps and webpages (http://xcx.oaky.com.cn/). You can read about the team work, the design and the system architecture following this blog article (link: http….) .
Figure: After Apollo’s birth, he always blew the candle together with me on every of my birthday.
My brother Apollo is like a mirror for me, and the time I spent with him is like experiencing childhood once more. Looking back on the days with my little brother Apollo, it was not so much that I was the role model that my brother had always been proud of, but rather that his pure enthusiasm and divine kindness influenced me to hold more kindness to the world, inspiring me to be more patient and willing to help others, and always motivating me to take on things that I had not the courage to try before. He was my Apollo, a loving and daring mission to take on, a mission that helped me grow.