I grew up in both countries, and this makes me see the world in a special way—especially when it comes to the weather and climate change.​ In winter, I always think of my grandma’s stories in northern China. She used to tell me about heavy snow that covered the fields every December. The snow was so thick that I could build a big snowman with my cousins. But in the past five years, the snow has become rare. Last winter, there was only a light dusting that melted in one day. My grandma sighed and said, “The weather is not like before.” In Canada, my uncle runs a small farm. He told me that the winters there are getting warmer too. The rivers don’t freeze as early, and some plants start to grow too soon—then die when cold winds come back. This makes me sad because I miss the snowy winters I knew as a kid.​ Summer is even more worrying. In northern China, where my mom’s hometown is, the rainstorms are getting stronger. Last year, the streets were flooded, and some people couldn’t go home for days. My mom worried about her friends there every day. In Canada’s west, my dad told me about big wildfires in the forests. The sky turns gray, and the air smells like smoke. Once, we had to stay indoors for a week because the air was too bad to breathe. I remember thinking: Why is the weather getting so extreme?​ But these changes also make me think about myself. Being from two cultures teaches me to care about different places. When I see a flood in China or a wildfire in Canada, I feel like both places are my home, and I want to protect them. On sunny days, I ride my bike instead of asking for a car ride. I also help my family save water. Small things, I think, can add up.​ The weather connects people everywhere. Climate change is not just a problem for one country—it’s for all of us. As someone with two homes, I hope we can work together to make the weather gentle again. I want my kids to hear my stories about snowy winters and calm summers, not just read about them in books.