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Iam a teacher at Rose No. 2 Kindergarten in Hanyang District of Wuhan， capital of central China’s Hubei Province. On March 14， I received a message from the mother of my student Yiyi that they would return to Wuhan soon. They were the first of the 21 families with children in my class to return after being stranded outside Wuhan because of the coronavirus lockdown.
After teaching Yiyi for three years， her parents had become some of my best friends. For a moment， I was speechless because a simple“welcome home” was even too emotional to enunciate.
Two days later， when she sent me a short video of Yiyi playing happily at home， I was as excited as they were. I found out from her that returning home was not easy. Even with proper certifications to return and resume work from both their residential community and employers， they still had to navigate many roadblocks and checkpoints along the way.
Upon arriving in Wuhan， still no pedestrians could be seen on the streets—only gray buildings and slow epidemic prevention vehicles. I’m sure it was far from an inviting welcome.
However， the roaring wind and the fluttering snowflakes are already in the past， and trees have begun to sprout with the unstoppable vigor of spring. After March 16， many children in our class returned to Wuhan， where they were born and are growing up.
As the weather warmed， an increasing number of supermarkets in Wuhan gradually reopened. On March 20， I received several messages from my neighbors and friends asking about protective measures and whether the supermarkets had become overcrowded.
To ensure the livelihood of shut-in residents during the epidemic prevention and control period， I have been engaged in community service as a volunteer by delivering fish， vegetables and other daily necessities to the elderly and needy families. I established contact with many neighbors through WeChat whom I hardly knew before， and now they’re indispensable friends.
Thanks to the efforts of community workers and volunteers， my community has become one of the certified infection-free residential communities of Hanyang District. Nevertheless， I still told my neighbors and friends to stay at home and that I could help buy what they need. However， after two months of quarantine at home， they do want to have a look outside.
Every time they went out， they would share what they saw and heard on WeChat after returning， just like in travelogues. Such posts described in great detail where the locations of the supermarket entrances and exits are， and more importantly， how to return with a full load of goods within the two-hour time limit. Although many people were eager to get to the supermarkets， their entrances were strictly controlled for epidemic prevention， which is quite different from usual operating procedures.
When they returned home from outside， it felt like a generation had passed. The past more than two months since Wuhan’s lockdown were like a nightmare for every resident in the city. Fortunately， we finally woke up after the lockdown was lifted.
On March 31， I was officially“laid off” from volunteer work as we ran out of requests from community residents. This left me with more time to read stories for kids via “Good Night Story Hub，” a WeChat account I launched two years ago. I shared stories with them like the origin of Tomb-Sweeping Day and stories about medical aid teams to Hubei Province and their heroic deeds. As children started understanding what was happening in Wuhan， they wanted to do something. So I encouraged the kids in my class to draw the most beautiful flowers possible with heartfelt words and hang them on their windows to express gratitude to the volunteers， medical teams and tens of thousands of people who put their lives on the line to fight for the city.
On April 6， I went to the airport as a volunteer to see off our “friends from afar”： medical workers from Beijing， Shanghai， Shaanxi Province， Jilin Province and other places who had supported Wuhan.
When I arrived at the airport， I couldn’t help getting emotional and loudly speaking out my thanks. I didn’t want them to leave， but they had already spent too many hard days in Wuhan.
They pledged to revisit Wuhan in the future. I couldn’t count how many bows I made that day， but I knew they bowed more.
On the way back， I saw vehicles parked next to the reservoir near the airport expressway. Some people were fishing under umbrellas and others were barbecuing—it was a warm and cozy picture I hadn’t seen for a long time. Suddenly， Wuhan had come back to life.
I had been to the airport on January 23， the day Wuhan was locked down， to cancel a trip to Myanmar and get a refund. There were only a few pedestrians on the road that day and airport staff looked as stern as infantry in a foxhole. My mood was also sad and heavy. Contrasting that with the scene of picnic made an unspeakable thrill burst from my heart.
From January 23 to April 8， time flew！ In the 76 days， 1，824 hours， 109，440 minutes， or 6，566，400 seconds， I shifted from quarantining at home and checking my temperature every day to venturing out to do volunteer service for epidemic prevention and control and then to finally welcoming children back to class and sending medical teams home. In the process I shared the weal and woe with my city.
Wuhan is back.
After teaching Yiyi for three years， her parents had become some of my best friends. For a moment， I was speechless because a simple“welcome home” was even too emotional to enunciate.
Two days later， when she sent me a short video of Yiyi playing happily at home， I was as excited as they were. I found out from her that returning home was not easy. Even with proper certifications to return and resume work from both their residential community and employers， they still had to navigate many roadblocks and checkpoints along the way.
Upon arriving in Wuhan， still no pedestrians could be seen on the streets—only gray buildings and slow epidemic prevention vehicles. I’m sure it was far from an inviting welcome.
However， the roaring wind and the fluttering snowflakes are already in the past， and trees have begun to sprout with the unstoppable vigor of spring. After March 16， many children in our class returned to Wuhan， where they were born and are growing up.
As the weather warmed， an increasing number of supermarkets in Wuhan gradually reopened. On March 20， I received several messages from my neighbors and friends asking about protective measures and whether the supermarkets had become overcrowded.
To ensure the livelihood of shut-in residents during the epidemic prevention and control period， I have been engaged in community service as a volunteer by delivering fish， vegetables and other daily necessities to the elderly and needy families. I established contact with many neighbors through WeChat whom I hardly knew before， and now they’re indispensable friends.
Thanks to the efforts of community workers and volunteers， my community has become one of the certified infection-free residential communities of Hanyang District. Nevertheless， I still told my neighbors and friends to stay at home and that I could help buy what they need. However， after two months of quarantine at home， they do want to have a look outside.
Every time they went out， they would share what they saw and heard on WeChat after returning， just like in travelogues. Such posts described in great detail where the locations of the supermarket entrances and exits are， and more importantly， how to return with a full load of goods within the two-hour time limit. Although many people were eager to get to the supermarkets， their entrances were strictly controlled for epidemic prevention， which is quite different from usual operating procedures.
When they returned home from outside， it felt like a generation had passed. The past more than two months since Wuhan’s lockdown were like a nightmare for every resident in the city. Fortunately， we finally woke up after the lockdown was lifted.
On March 31， I was officially“laid off” from volunteer work as we ran out of requests from community residents. This left me with more time to read stories for kids via “Good Night Story Hub，” a WeChat account I launched two years ago. I shared stories with them like the origin of Tomb-Sweeping Day and stories about medical aid teams to Hubei Province and their heroic deeds. As children started understanding what was happening in Wuhan， they wanted to do something. So I encouraged the kids in my class to draw the most beautiful flowers possible with heartfelt words and hang them on their windows to express gratitude to the volunteers， medical teams and tens of thousands of people who put their lives on the line to fight for the city.
On April 6， I went to the airport as a volunteer to see off our “friends from afar”： medical workers from Beijing， Shanghai， Shaanxi Province， Jilin Province and other places who had supported Wuhan.
When I arrived at the airport， I couldn’t help getting emotional and loudly speaking out my thanks. I didn’t want them to leave， but they had already spent too many hard days in Wuhan.
They pledged to revisit Wuhan in the future. I couldn’t count how many bows I made that day， but I knew they bowed more.
On the way back， I saw vehicles parked next to the reservoir near the airport expressway. Some people were fishing under umbrellas and others were barbecuing—it was a warm and cozy picture I hadn’t seen for a long time. Suddenly， Wuhan had come back to life.
I had been to the airport on January 23， the day Wuhan was locked down， to cancel a trip to Myanmar and get a refund. There were only a few pedestrians on the road that day and airport staff looked as stern as infantry in a foxhole. My mood was also sad and heavy. Contrasting that with the scene of picnic made an unspeakable thrill burst from my heart.
From January 23 to April 8， time flew！ In the 76 days， 1，824 hours， 109，440 minutes， or 6，566，400 seconds， I shifted from quarantining at home and checking my temperature every day to venturing out to do volunteer service for epidemic prevention and control and then to finally welcoming children back to class and sending medical teams home. In the process I shared the weal and woe with my city.
Wuhan is back.