A letter home, a bed of warmth; Love across mountains and seas takes tangible form.

The breeze of May carries the softness of early summer, along with the warmth of longing.

This season brimming with love brings the Parents’ Day quietly upon us. More than just a date marked on the calendar, it embodies the core of filial piety and gratitude rooted in Chinese culture—a gentle reminder amid our busy lives to turn our thoughts back to the home where a light always burns for us.

My father gave me life; my mother nursed me. She caressed me, nurtured me, raised me, and reared me. In traditional Chinese culture, filial piety flows like an endless river, nourishing the spiritual home of generation after generation. Less boisterous than Western festivals, Parents’ Day bears far deeper emotional weight. It is not confined to a single day, but a collection of every glance backward, every heartfelt greeting, and every quiet thought of care.

The true meaning of the festival lies in this: love cannot be hoarded, for it fades if left unexpressed. We must voice it, even haltingly; we must show it, even clumsily. Bend down, pick up a pen, or choose a tangible gift—something they can hold and see with their own eyes.

At Changzhou Dacheng Vacuum Technology Co., Ltd., Parents’ Day is not merely a personal observance for each employee, but a celebration for our entire corporate family.

Every year at this time, we uphold this heartwarming tradition: Each employee selects a gift for their parents. The company handles bulk purchasing and delicate packaging, before shipping the parcels to families scattered far and wide across the country. Accompanying each gift is a handwritten letter penned by the employee themselves.

What do they write in these letters?

On the paper, it might just be those three words “I love you” that they’re too shy to say out loud. It feels awkward to speak them face to face, but they fit perfectly written down. Or it could be all the longing they’ve kept bottled up for years after leaving home. Once they start writing, all that hidden missing flows right out through the pen. Sometimes it’s nothing fancy at all, just a simple line: “Mom and Dad, you’ve worked so hard.” It sounds ordinary, but if you really think about it, no other words carry more meaning.

A handwritten letter, a thoughtful gift. They travel over hills and rivers, and finally land safely in parents’ hands—hands that may be rough from years of hard work. When they open the package, it might be drizzling outside the window, or the TV in the living room could be playing a show they can barely hear. This small package doesn’t need any extra words, yet it says everything.

It bridges the cold distance between families thousands of miles apart. Love is no longer just a vague feeling stuck in your heart. It turns into something real: something you can touch, unfold and keep safely for years to come.