Let it be,without forcing it;

In 2016, the arrival of Kimi—our third child—was one of those things that happened “without forcing it”.

The story begins at the hospital.

I took my third child’s birth papers to a nurse. In the space for his name, I wrote “Kimi Wang”.

“Can this name be registered?”

First, let us go back to the year Wang Keyi, our eldest daughter, was born—2008.

My wife chose the English name “Cathy” for her, a name associated with purity. I took our daughter’s birth papers to register her. A plump nurse told me, “Cathy is not a Portuguese name. It cannot be registered.”

“Ah—then what do we do?” I seemed to be asking both her and myself.

The nurse explained, “If you can prove that the name exists in your country, you can obtain a declaration from the embassy. Then we can register it.”

She added, “Catarina is a beautiful name, and its meaning is close to Cathy.”

She suggested that I use it. I liked the name too, although many people shared it. The nurse also showed me a website explaining Portugal’s rules for naming newborns. I read it, but the conclusion remained the same: Cathy was not a Portuguese name and could not be registered directly.

I accepted the nurse’s suggestion. Our eldest daughter was registered as Catarina Wang.

Years later, at a gathering of Chinese community associations, I met an embassy official and casually asked:

“Could the embassy issue a declaration confirming that Kimi is a recognised name in our country, China?”

“Sanxiong, we are not allowed to lie,” an embassy counsellor replied. Ah—I froze for a moment.

Now return to 2016, when our third child was born.

I took my third child’s birth papers to a nurse. “Can the name Kimi Wang be registered?”

The nurse said to me:

“Você é o pai dele e tem o direito de decidir qual o nome que ele deve receber.”

You are his father, and you have the right to decide what he should be called.

“Ah—so Portugal’s rules for naming newborns had changed.” I had answered my own question.

Kimi Wang: that was how the English name of our third child was decided.

My wife gave him the Chinese name Wang Ke’an.

“As handsome as Pan An—and may he grow into a quiet, handsome young man.” That was how she explained it.

“Three sons, one leopard.” A friend from Wenzhou once told me this saying: if a family’s third child is a boy, perhaps he will be a leopard. I thought of myself—I, too, am the third child in my family.

“Kimi, Dad sees his own shadow in you.”

I often say this.