Sometimes, Simplicity Wins

When I was a kid, we only had three TV channels—two national and one local. Programming for young kids was limited, so we all ended up watching the same shows. On our local channel, there was a program that featured children’s artwork, showing some of the pieces they received by mail. For us, it was a rare opportunity to be “famous,” with our name and painting shown on TV for everyone to see.

I enjoyed drawing and painting. I often sketched scenes I could only imagine—a hut nestled by a jungle river, mountains, and rivers flowing through lush landscapes. Living in an arid region, I drew the greenery and landscapes I’d never seen in real life but glimpsed occasionally on TV. When I finished one batch of drawings, I made a simple sketch of a tulip bud on a branch, and, on a whim, I signed it with my little sister Homa's name.

A few weeks after we mailed in our drawings, something extraordinary happened. One afternoon, people began gathering at our door, congratulating my father and saying how proud they were. They’d seen it: the TV had shown a painting, announcing, “A beautiful piece by Homa Mohammadi from Dehong.” It was as though, for a moment, our small village was lit up in the pride of shared recognition, with my father at the center, smiling at the sight of his daughter’s name on the screen.

In that simple moment, I realized how something as small as a single drawing could bring joy and connection to an entire community. I was sad that my painting that I have put hard effort into was not shown and even no one heard my name on TV, but I learned that sometimes simplicity wins.