(963) Lucky Man by Michael J. Fox

This book was condensed in Reader's Digest July 2002. Fox has early on-set Parkinson's disease.

When I read that, I thought of my ex-neighbor, Mr. Tang. About fourteen years ago, I was staying in a semi-detached house in Silver City. Elizabeth was in Elementary school then. We had a happy few years rearing chickens in the land by the side of our house. As I worked in the kitchen, I would see Mr. Tang walking back and forth in his garden. Most of the time, he walked at measured pace. But now and again, he would stagger and then freeze in mid-stride. There he would remain, sweating and with an intent look in his eyes. Some times his wife would come and rescue him by pulling and pushing him back into his walking therapy. Other times the maid would come out to assist him back to the house.

By the time I moved away, nobody but his wife and the  maid could understand what he was saying in tiny mewing sounds.  According to Mrs Tang, the specialist gave him five years at the time of diagnosis. By the time I met them, it had been seven years. But with relentless daily exercise, nutritious blended food force fed and careful nursing, he is still alive today. The main strategy is not to up his medication until and unless he really needs it to function.

Nobody knows what causes Parkinson's. But Mrs Tang wondered if it was partly due to excessive hours of basketball playing for many years. Mr. Tang represented his schools and college in basketball tournaments and continue to play into his forties in his company team. It must be added torture for such an active man to have his body dissociated from the control of his brain.

(962) A Slap

Many years ago, I was visiting some cousins in the next country. We were sitting in the kitchen having dinner when my eldest cousin walked in. He deliberately walked right up to the second eldest girl and asked,"What did you think you were doing just now?"

She answered,"Just having tea with my colleague after work!"

He raised his arm and gave her a tight slap. It took her by surprise, I could see the red marks of five fingers. He said to nobody in particular,"That was a married man who would swallow little girls. Unless you are not my sister, I will really give you a sound beating if you dare to sit with him alone at a table again." Then he walked off while the stricken girl started weeping.

At that time she was freshly out of school, probably not even seventeen years old. After a painful and humiliating slap, she must have watched her steps carefully. Today she is happily married to a fine husband with children.

Normally that is the duty of the father. But in this case, the eldest male sibling acted fast to prevent any further entanglement and heart ache.

(961) The Bonesetter's Daughter by Amy Tan

Ruth, the main character in the story, was really decent but rather self defacing in everyday life. Her decision to move back to her mother's proved to be smart. Had she stayed on and let her live-in and daughters continue to make use of her as well as take her for granted, she would remain an old girl friend to her dying days.

My aunt was suspected to be in the early stage of Alzeimer's disease. My mother-in-law was diagnosed with dementia. Both are in their early eighties. I can certainly sympathize with Ruth's struggles in caring for her mum prior to the latter's move to assisted living in a high end facility.

My maternal uncle, traveled to China for further studies in his teens. As he lost his documents during WW2, he reportedly moved his birth date backwards for three years so that he would not be over age. Till today, he insisted that he was the age in his Chinese documents. My mother did not argue with him, but by virtual of the year he was born in, the horoscope sign could not be changed as easily. Interestingly, this uncle's elder brother went to the relevant government department (many years ago) to get a copy of the younger brother's birth certificate and conveniently assumed his identity. Thus the eldest in the family easily became the youngest legally. He became a whopping six years younger than his real age. All these mirrored how YuLing and Gao Ling became each five years younger when they immigrated to USA.

We see the progression of the bonesetter's daughter, Gu Liu Xin to LuLing Young and then to Ruth Young. Gu was born and bred in China. She could not escape the lot of  an undefended woman in rural China. Her first suitor murdered her father and robbed her dowry in open day light. Mrs Young had the opportunity to migrate to America and marry a citizen. Although her husband died tragically in a traffic accident, she managed to bring up her capable daughter Ms Young. The grand daughter is the one who grew up in California to have a loving husband and two adoring step-daughters.

(960) Change of Heart by Jodi Picoult

Change of Heart is the third book of Picoult I read. None of them is easy to read for they involve a lot of digesting. This one involves the death penalty, either by lethal injection or hanging. Then there is the issue of sexual abuse of minors. It is further complicated by a heart transplant and a double murder. I have been living a very sheltered life, out of all of these, I have met a lady at an evangelistic meeting who related to me about her open heart surgery in a triple bypass.

In Change of Heart, we read about the lives of  quite a number of people: June(the wife of the murdered officer), Claire (June's second daughter, the heart patient), Shay (the murderer), Maggie (the murderer's lawyer), Michael (the priest), and Grace (Shay's sister). Everyone of these characters are individuals, each very different from the others. June was like the perpetual victim, she lost her first husband through a car accident and her second by a murder. Her elder daughter was killed and the second one almost died of a defective heart.

Before this book, I have not thought one way or the other about the punishment of death by execution. Now I cannot say I object to it yet. But I will no longer say yes to it readily. As a book, I like the fact that Shay did managed to donate his heart to Claire and the latter received a second lease of life. It is a sort of happy ending. But in actual fact, Shay sacrificed his future by taking the imprisonment for his sister's act of arson. He accidentally killed Elizabeth in the attempt of protecting her from sexual abuse. But in staying silent, he accepted a death penalty for manslaughter. As if all these are not complex enough, religion and spiritual truths are heaped onto the mountain of issues. If you are looking for relaxation or entertainment, this is the book you should run away from!

(959) Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden

I read this book many years ago. Reading it a second time was different from the first round. This time I noticed many smaller things apart from the main story line. When I borrowed it the first time, I was curious about the motion picture. After all, a country woman of mine won an award as an actress in the movie. This round, I was reading to enjoy the strange tale of a fisher girl being sold to an okiya(a sort of Geisha family enterprise) and later became a famous geisha.

There are many elements in this story that contribute to its box office appeal. We have an innocent beauty: Sayuri. Then there are dragons: granny and mother. Also we have a wicked witch: Hatsumomo. We have a fairy God sister: Mameha. Quite a few wannerbe knights: Dr. Crab, the Baron, the General, Nobu and the Minister. Finally the fairy princess found her prince when her long dreamed of Chairman came on board.

I won't say the story is ideal, after all, the Chairman had a legally wedded wife and two lovely daughters. Yet there is a certain appeal in him being able to be a family man and yet spent so many nights of his latter years with Sayuri. I particularly like the part where Sayuri chose to migrate to New York city with her illegitimate son. She was far sighted enough to realize she had a decent living to make in the Big Apple. That way, she was free of her "Mother" and "Auntie". At the same time, the Chairman's daughter would be free to marry her sweet heart who could really become the Chairman's heir without worrying about the son of a geisha as a contender to the estate. In the strategic step, Sayuri became the Chairman's mistress in America, which probably made it easier for the Chairman's family to be able to view her as less of a threat!

(958) Rejecting fate

Mary Po Po came from a family of five siblings. She is the eldest and had three brothers before our friend was born. By the time I met the former, she was in her early seventies.

Even though women of those days were not educated, this particular one learned to read Chinese newspaper and speak a smattering of English while she was employed by the foreign engineers. You see, that particular house hold boasted of an amah (maid who cleans house and washes clothes), a gardener, a driver and a cook. The gardener was an educated man. He spent his free time teaching the amah and the cook to read.

One day, we were "yarning" in her little garden while my children were in school. She related how her brothers all passed away one after another. I found that fascinating. Even with the lack of medical care, the widespread poverty, and the war as well as civil unrest, one can hardly account for the short life spans of males in this particular family. So I asked point blank questions to get real answers for this phenomena. She was most candid. Her mother was a superstitious woman. When all five children were young, the mum went to consult the occult authorities to "read" their futures. Whatever the reason, all five children were supposed not to live beyond fifty years old.

It was funny that the parents took the trouble to pay and find out the children's future but did nothing about it. My friend, was the only one  who rejected fate and strived to live longer than predicted. She had long chats with any wise sage in the village who would give her the time of the day. Her game plan was to change her fate. But how? She said,"To focus on helping other more unfortunate people around her no matter what her own circumstances are, all the days of her natural life."

It was interesting that all her brothers embraced their fate. One smoked himself to lung cancer, the second gambled day and night until he died early of a heart attack, the third one was a delicate man who took too good care of his health. Guess how he died? He was run over by a hit and run driver.

What about the youngest? Oh! She does not believe in fate. She simply did not care enough to register her predicted short life span.  After she came out of the insane asylum, she just live one day at a time as best as she could. Probably her lack of stress leads to a long life.

(957) Emotional healing

I remember the day when I fell down in the bathroom in the single storey house facing the field. I remember calling Naomi, she came, cleaned my wound, bandaged me up and took me to St. Gregory to collect Michael’s report card.


Why did I fall? Things had gone wrong for many weeks. The last straw was having our only car knocked from the back by a drunk driver at a traffic light.

For days I was walking in circles. Working hard but never seeming to be able to get any one task done. I was trying to prepare bath water for Keziah before she was to be picked up for kindergarten. Or was I trying to fill a bucket with water for mopping? It is difficult to recall now. Anyway, that didn’t matter as both tasks meant I was bending down to ladle out water from the big container to a smaller bucket.

I fell and must have passed out for an unspecified time. When I opened my eyes, I could not recall where I was. Neither could I recognize the house or the bathroom.

It was as if I was a child again. I wondered where my mum was. I wondered how come I was not in the old house. (my second childhood residence) Then I looked at myself, got up from the bathroom floor and looking into the mirror, it came in a flash that I was much older, married and with kids. Where were my children?

I knew Michael was in primary school. Keziah was at home.

Looking back, it was a healing experience. I had to fall flat on my face; the holy spirit took me back to that crucial moment and I must have been ministered to. Don’t really know why, but it was to be a time machine experience before I was made whole. Naturally I wanted to go home and found a ride. The good samaritan took us to my home town. We stood by the side of a busy road with no taxi in sight. And in my bewildered state, I cried out ‘Help!’ to God and he promptly answered.

Yes I had two kids in tow, Michael must have been 9, Keziah was 5. We were standing at a street corner, not knowing what to do. Michael asked, ‘How are we going to get to grandpa’s house?’ and I answered, ‘ I really don’t know, but God will take care of us.’

Lo and behold, not many minutes later, a car pulled over, Sandra and Hugh, our angels from our past asked us to get in. They fought a 1 1/2 hours' jam to take us to our destination. According to Hugh, he usually wouldn’t pass that way. However he made a wrong turn; Sandra spotted our ragtag band standing there with our overnight bags.

You see, when one cannot take care of oneself, God will take care of him or her. All he or she has to do is to cry out to Him. Praise be to his name.


* b-414781-Decoration Flower.jpg from en.loadtr.co

(956) The Dreamer, the Schemer & the Robe by Jenny Cote

A few days ago I read Cote's first book and I like it. Now I am wondering how this second book could be better. Yet I think if I were to ask my child who is an English Literature major, she would answer that it is because the author has had more time and space to develop the characters better.

By now I can see the greedy plump cat Al, the trim and intellectual female cat Liz, the brave terrier Max and his "wife" Kate in my mind's eye. I could just imagine what they would do in the next chapter. That is the advantage of reading a second book in a series.

Joseph and his many colored robe is a very familiar story in Sunday school. Cote was able to bring it down to an every day level with interesting side stories and make the main story come to life. If parents are looking for books to show their children how to live a life of faith by listening and obeying God, this is the book that they should buy and leave it around the living room so that faith would rub off onto their off-springs.

(955) The worldly female

Have you heard of a term called worldly or global female, said in Cantonese? (Sai Kai Loi) I haven't until my friend used the term and explained it for me. I suspect it came from Singapore, as my friend resided in that island nation for many years.

She has a nephew who is gaga over a nineteen year old. While she tried not to meddle in the young folk's love life, she has to say something when he produced her glamorous photo to show her. I did not have a chance to see the shot. From what I heard, this young lady looks worldly wise and she is dressed like she is twenty nine. There is no trace of innocence left. To be undiplomatic, she looked well used. To give the stark truth, she is soiled with too many short term fun relationships.

It is interesting listening to how she gently chastises her nephew. She said that she is glad that her daughter is not after short term glamour and fun like this global female in question. It is important that her daughter is aiming for long term happiness, joy and peace in the her life. Similarly, my friend is glad that her son is not involved with any global female. Typically such ladies bring with them strife, fights, envy, unhappiness and lots of negative emotions and actions/reactions. As the glamorous global female dropped one man for another, the former lovers could be angry enough to kill her or the new contender. It is a dangerous life associating with such women.

I suppose it is entirely up to the smitten young man how he would react to such well meaning advice! He only lives once, so he has the right to choose fun and danger. Yet a life of fun and danger brings with it certain consequences that cannot be erased!

(954) An unhappy domestic worker

I went to visit a family I knew since Silver City days. Their two previous pleasant Christian maids left. There is one rather unhappy maid from Indonesia.

This family has been having a series of happy maids as they believe in treating their maids well. Since I have time on my hand, I listened to the complaints of this current helper. She spent five years working in Singapore working in one family, her main duty is looking after one baby. She did not cook a single meal for this family. After that she spent some time at home as her husband complained about her continued absence. By the time she wanted to work again, she is older than the age limit imposed by the Singaporean government.

The next family she worked in was in the capital city in one of the more affluent suburbs. The employer's children already left to study in Australia. She acted more like a care taker for the house while the employer and his wife traveled often for business and leisure. There was no need for her to cook nor clean cars as there was a full time chauffeur hired by the company.

This current house that the maid works in is roughly double the build up area of the previous house. There is a verandah all around the front and the two sides of the house. She single-handedly sweeps and mops the entire house as well as the covered area outside. On top of that, she needs to cook two simple meals and do laundry. It does seem like a lot of work for one person. But I suppose she is already being paid 50% more than the expected pay because there is no one to share her load.

For whatever reason, there is not a single Cambodian or Filipino maid in the market at the moment. Whoever who wants a maid could only choose from Indonesian maids who have worked here previously. The real shortcoming of having a "recycled" maid is that it is in our human nature to compare, which may lead to unhappiness. It is just too bad that she has had easier jobs before this. For this particular assignment, she could display a sour face and be difficult. But she would still have to fulfill her two years of contractual service.

(953) Hobbies

Kenneth asked me if it is common to find women who assemble knick knacks from catalogue purchase. Can't say I read or done any survey on this topic. But through my visits to homes of college bound friends in USA many years ago, I have seen a few homes decorated with such hand made items.

For those who watch Glee, it was the teacher's wife that created this category for Kenneth's classification of creative women in America. And it is a story in a particular chicken soup book that triggered such a line of questions.

From my personal observations, a lady of leisure finds many avenues of spending her time. A friend of mine whose husband is in the ministry has gone into fitness and running. Another friend whose husband is working abroad chose charity work. A third whose husband made millions chose to shadow him day and night, therefore she works in his office. Some play mahjong. Some go shopping. Others haunt restaurants and buffets in hotels. Some gossip. Others major in youth and beauty -- weight loss, cosmetic surgery, make overs, ... The possibilities are endless. You name it, someone has been at it. Sure, some may choose to spend money on mail order parts and then spend many hours having the satisfaction of making the husband assemble things which contribute to making the home more attractive. As long as both husband and wife enjoy making things together, it is not a bad hobby.

But for the life of me, I value not those items on display. I think more of the many enjoyable hours spent creating those items. I think more of the love that spur such actions. There must be a person willing to pay. Then another person willing to work on the parts.  After that no one objected to those items taking their rightful place in the house. That in itself is an amazing combination that spells "happy family".

(952) The Garden of Evening Mists by Tan Twan Eng

My maternal grandma was a widow bringing up five children when the Japanese occupied my country. My mother was barely seven years old when they ran to the forest and hide from the invaders. They endured close to four years of subsisting on sweet potatoes and tapioca.

I thought my generation was well educated in terms of local history. Yet reading Tan's book taught me lots of details that history books did not touch on. Even though my grandma was not harmed by the Japanese, I sensed in her the sort of hatred that Yun Ling had in the book. My mother and her siblings are still not fond of anything Japanese. For my generation, Japan is a country that offers scholarships. My husband spent some time in Japan as an exchange student.

With over development, Cameron's Highlands is no longer as cool as described in the book. During any school holidays or long weekends, traffic is choc-a-block in the Highlands.

Just like all the speculations about Nazi gold from WW2, much has been said about the gold looted by the Japanese forces. Kenneth is of the opinion that perhaps such a horde of it was hidden in the Mindanao, he thought it unlikely that there is one in Peninsular Malaysia. After all, the jungle here was over run with both the Communists and the aborigine tribes at that point of time. But of course such rumours make good materials for fictions.

(951) The Ark, the Reed & the Fire Cloud by Jenny Cote

I am very impressed with the author. To think that I have been reading the bible for twenty over years without giving much thoughts to how the many pairs of animals traveled to the ark that Noah built. It took a woman with a passion for God, history, and young people to come up with a historical fiction like this.

This book is probably targeted at youth. Even though I am way beyond middle age, I still enjoy a good yarn. It is a clean story, but quite an adventure bringing excitement to all who read it. I recommend it highly for readers age 11 to 18.

(950) Divergent by Veronica Roth

This book is set in some fantastic future landscape where people are grouped under several factions, where for example Amity produce vegetables, fruits and farm animals. For anyone who is factionless, it means the person works as sanitation worker, train driver or such jobs and survives on the fringe of society.

Beatrice Prior was born in the faction Abegnegation. In this faction they dress like the puritans and are selfless by choice. Most adults in Abegnegation work as leaders in the government. On her 16th birthday, she took a test that should  indicate that her nature is suitable to join a certain faction. But the test was inconclusive. The volunteer erased her test and entered the result of Abegnegation by hand. The very next day, Prior chose to join Dauntless.

In Dauntless, she learned to jump onto and out of moving trains. Then she had to jump from the roof of a tall  building into a huge net to prove her courage. Throughout her weeks of learning about combat and facing her internal fears, she had to hide the fact that she was likely to be a divergent. For others told her that divergents that are discovered ended up dead by foul play.

In the process of an ambitious woman from Erudite conspiring with Dauntless to overtake the government, Prior lost both her parents. She managed to escape with two other Dauntless members to live another day. By then we know that divergents are not affected by the chip injected into their necks to control them, hence the mastermind wanted to kill every single divergent.

When I think about it, our young folks are required to make up their minds about choosing a certain profession at age 17. By choosing arts subjects in pre-u, one excludes science majors. In a sense it is also a major decision with far reaching effects.

(949) Pop Concert

A few years back, my daughter's best friend was immigrating to Canada. Both families got together and had a Bon voyage meal.

During the dinner, Mr. Raj asked if I know why his daughter stopped attending my church. While his wife was trying to change the topic, he over ruled by saying he must clear the air before leaving. So everyone quieted down to listen to him. Apparently quite a few churches in the vicinity of my suburbs were well known for scantily clad teens. School boys would compare notes and attend these churches to catch those would be models.

I can't say that I did not notice that trend. It was a big change coming from the fourth largest town to the nation's capital. But I put it to myself as this is the Hollywood generation. While I teach my daughters to dress modestly, to mix around with those who dress decently, I hardly think twice about how short the mini skirts were. After all, I was young and fashionable once, the only difference is I met God after my graduation from university.

Mr. Raj put it like this, a church that tolerates scantily clad teens during worship service will soon have young mothers who dress like GROs (Guests Relation Officers). Soon even the middle age matrons would dress like Desperate Housewives. He said that this is a topic that rouses lots of dissent and he was shot by many church pastors as prudes and being provincial. But the fact remains that it is clearly against God's word for female parishioners to dress like that during Sunday worship.

The Raj family had left for about five years  now. What he predicted has come to pass in my church. Every Christmas means cocktail gowns for young ladies who showed half their bosoms. Lately I lost count of the cleavages shown by teenagers, young mothers and not so young leaders' wives. I guess one gets immune to things like that.

It took a visitor to point out to me that the worship leader was dressed inappropriately Then I really opened my eyes and looked.  Yeah, it looks more like a pop concert.

(948) The House Sitter by Peter Lovesey

While working on a case of profiling a cold blooded as well as bold serial killer, a university lecturer was killed on a crowded beach.

Two well known individuals were murdered after the killer announced his intention to kill. British Police raced against time to protect a wealthy and famous singer, the third's life being threatened. They almost lost her and a policewoman as well until the star detective had a brain wave.

How safe can special forces' safe house be if their security was reworked by the would be murderer's firm? It was creative problem solving to place the would be victim as a house sitter to care for his boss' beloved cat. This story showed the danger of taking research grant away from mad genius.

For a reader who is more used to reading police stories on the other side of the Atlantic, I find this story endearing.

(947) Doctors, doctors everywhere

Let us look at three real families.

The Brown family is made up of five children and the parents. Dr. Brown is a neurologist. Mrs Brown is a ear, nose and throat specialist. All their five children are doctors. Granted, child number 1 is a son, he did have the personal ambition to be a doctor. The rest of the four did not want to be medical doctors. But I suppose that it is not easy to rebel against controlling parents who rule the roost like a naval battleship.

The White family consists of father, mother and three sons. Dr. White is a cardiac surgeon. Mrs.White is a child specialist. The eldest son has qualified recently. Being a doctor is very different from being a journalist as he has dreamed. The middle son is mid way through his medical course. The youngest is still in high school, probably another potential doctor as she leads her year academically.

The Green family is somewhat different. Mr Green is a computer engineer. Mrs Green is a banker turned home maker. Kid number one is in his final year in a medical program. Kid number two has just been accepted into a medical course, she worked very hard to qualify. The baby of the family is still in high school. I wonder if the parents could mold her like the other two? From what I could see years ago, this child is stubborn and not soft like her siblings.

Do people want to be medical doctors to garner respect or to earn millions? Will there ever be a glut? Could doctors be unemployed, after all they are turning out hundreds and thousands year after year? It will be interesting to note the real situation  ten, fifteen years from now!

End note: a day after this was written, I heard from a person in the know that there are an excess of Medical Officers in the public hospitals, as there are not enough supervisory specialists to oversee their training. The end result is some work like hospital assistants with no supervision.

(946) Mother's day

There are many seasons that we go through. Personally I went through about ten years of learning to help children with different forms of learning disabilities. During the last five years of that period I listened to the unexpressed pain of a neighbour who happened to be physically abused by her prosperous and respectable husband. At the end of that season, teaching came to an end. I actually looked long and hard for any teaching jobs for one calendar year. After applying to about six jobs that ranged from remedial English in college to tutoring to kindergarten teaching, I gave up.

What happened next was I spent a fair amount of my free time listening to a hurting divorcee. The first Mother's day, she did not go to church. By the time the second one rolled around, she came and smiled throughout the special service. I can only say that it was easier to witness her weeping than seeing her plastic smile. This year's Mother's day came and went. She did not come. After a few years of living away from her abusive husband and missing her beloved children, it was still hard for her to be present for a Mother's day celebration.

I extended an invitation to her: should she need a friend to accompany her to a neutral celebration of Mother's day in a nearby church where she knows nobody, I will be prepared to go with her next year. Therefore if she loses her composure and needs to weep in a corner, it would not be so public and humiliating. There are churches where everyone would respect a person's privacy and give her space to weep quietly in a corner. But not all churches are like that.

(945) Envy by Sandra Brown

My cousin said that by reading a few books by the same author, she could infer some things about him. When she finally managed to meet him years later and had a conversation with him, her mental deductions proved to be correct.

Now I ask, is it possible to fall in love with a book and subsequently the author? Apparently Maris in Envy did. But she thought that she married the author of the best seller that she loved. It turned out that her husband stole the only book he published from his former best friend. In the process, a girl was killed. The original author was maimed. That handsome husband of Maris managed to pass the blame on his former best friend for many years.

Much, much later, pay back time came finally. This is indeed an unusual book where the victim successfully turned the table against the bully.

(944) The Chocolate Run by Dorothy Koomson

At first glance, this seems to be a modern novel that said a lot about sex. I flipped through it, read snippets here and there but actually kept the book for months before I seriously read it. I was not willing to return it because I enjoyed its sister book: marshmallows for breakfast. Now, I am glad I did not write it off and return it impulsively.

I am a child of the Sixties. While the hippies had their revolution, my family was working hard to climb up to the lower middle class in a developing country. If I say that divorce is an alien concept to me at age twenty one, you may not believe me. Yet it is true that the only person I knew for sure then whose parents had divorced was a girl I was hardly close to in the morning session in my Primary School. (I was in the afternoon session.) We used to leave notes asking if the other had found this book or that pencil. Now and then we insulted each other's class cleanliness committee. I thought her surname was Wong but in Grade Six it became Yap instead. At first I thought I had a memory lapse. Funny that my very good memory should fail. Many years later in casual conversation with her former classmates I heard that her mum who was a hot-shot business woman divorced her father for whatever reason. The attractive mum later remarried and the step-father legally adopted her, hence the sudden change of family name. Looking back, there must have been other divorces, but it was such a bad stigma that nobody was willing to admit it. So that was my kind of background: in general parents may fight daily, they may beat each other up, some mothers would take their kids and hide in relatives' houses until the confrontation blew over, but marriage is for life, literally for better or for worse.

Guess my reaction when I found that a good forty percent of my Freshman dorm mates have two sets of parents, my eyes must have popped out with disbelief, no wonder I was not exactly Miss Popular in that American College. Then as I settled down and made friends, I found quite a number of them behaving in very illogical manner in boy-girl relationships. As soon as the girl caught a whiff of suspicious cooling off or the guy looked at another chick twice, there our friend will cry and initiate a break-up. Many were the hours I sat down in different rooms acting as agony aunt, listening and offering tissues or hankies and coffee or chocolates. Until a week ago I thought my college was a magnet to poor little rich girls with huge sensitive egos and emotional personalities. Now, learning from the above book, I realised that these girls were merely insecure because they saw their mothers suffered from marital breakup in close quarters. They probably blamed themselves for the painful breakup if it had occurred  while they were young. Therefore rather than being dumped and be pathetic, they would preempt and dump the guy at first suspicious opportunity.

Wish I had been more into novels earlier in my youth and had come across such authors who are good at explaining affairs of the heart. It is no wonder that even though I was an effective listener, I could not understand those younger girls. Nothing I could possibly suggest register with them. There I was, shorter, not as attractive, hardly use any make up, happy that at twenty one I appeared sixteen in the land of grow-up-fast mentality; but I have never feared that I would be left on the shelve or forced to remain single all my life. Never occur to me that I should lack suitors, fully confident that whoever wins my hand in marriage would be a very lucky man. Now I realise it is because I was the apple of both my parents' eyes, they might not be exactly happy with each other but they have made sure I grew up in a totally secure environment. As a result I was happy and at ease with myself, indirectly attracting guys who look for that sense of security in a girl.

(943) Lightning and thunder

There is an airport near to where I live. For as long as I have been staying here, there have been lots of thunder and lightning during rain storms. Recently I heard that it was the taking off and landing of air planes that caused the unusual high number and severity of thunder and lightning.

One school boy played basketball in his school and it started raining. He decided to walk home any way. While he was crossing a high field, he was struck down and died on the spot. About eighteen months ago, another boy chose to shelter under a zinc roof building built under a tree. He died by a direct hit while two of his friends were badly injured.

Elizabeth asked me what would I have done? In the first place I am not a basketball enthusiast. Secondly I would either leave before the sky becomes dark or shelter in the school until the rain is over. For nine years I took public buses to get home from school, there must have been many times it rained cats and dogs around the time I needed to go home. Interestingly there had not been a single incident of lightning death of any student  while I was a youth.

(942) The Millionaires by Brad Meltzer

If there is a sum of three million dollars, the owner is dead with no heir; at a certain date it will be transferred to Uncle Sam, will you take it? Two brothers did and almost died in the process of running away from some rouge government agents.

Everyone has a price, so it is said. We would like to think that we will choose not to be corrupted, but is it possible? There was a Malaysian accountant who was sent to Hong Kong quite a number of years ago to audit some accounts. He discovered some irregularities but failed to report it immediately, he was murdered. On the one hand, one likes to be honest; but on the other hand, it may be dangerous to be absolutely honest without being wise.

May the good Lord give wisdom to every person with integrity.

(941) Best Foot Forward by Jeanne Ray

This is a happy story of five couples that centered on a dance teacher's family. Caroline owns a dance studio and is happily married to public defender Tom. Taffy, Caroline's sister, happened to seek shelter and squat in Caroline's house when her marriage went shaky. Taffy started going out with Caroline's contractor, Woodrow, who is an African American. Kay, Caroline's daughter, is also a public defender. She became engaged to a rich man's son, Trey. Jack, Kay's former boy friend, actually eloped with Taffy's daughter, Holden, just a few days after they met. George, Caroline's youngest son, fell in love with Woodrow's daughter, Erica.

If you want to find out why I like this story so much, you simply have to locate and read it. It has been condensed in one of Reader's Digest volumes. When one is unsure of who is the right person to marry, listen to Tom. Tom dated Caroline for a few months. Caroline was fun, intelligent, caring and a nice girl. Then Tom agreed to celebrate some occasion with her. But somehow he got hold of a much sought after ticket for an important basketball game. He broke the date by pretending to have caught a cold. Caroline actually cooked chicken soup and delivered to his dorm and found out his duplicity. But she still left the soup for him to drink. As he enjoyed every mouthful, he felt very guilty for what he did. A few months later, at the spur of the moment, he turned up just an hour before she was to go for a date and asked her to marry him. His rationale is, he may  never meet another girl who would care enough to cook chicken soup for him when he pretended to be sick. More than that, she did not pour the soup over him when she found out. And of course she was decent enough not to take the soup and give it to some body else.

He said "go find a girl who dances, if she cooks you chicken soup when you are sick, then marry her." Very simple advice, what do you think?

(940) An interesting development

Starting from this week, the number of cumulative pages viewed by Russian readers in this blog begin to exceed that of Malaysian readers.

Kenneth is home for his semester break. He searched on line and told me that not very long ago, Russians were passionate readers compared to other countries. Recently, however, the trend has changed. Only the well educated with higher income in the bigger cities still buy books regularly. Of course the availability of internet changes the reading habits of the youth and young working folks. The more mature readers who are IT savvy would definitely read blogs too.

There is a difference between American and Russian readers, the latter delete their foot prints as soon as they exit the blog. I have no idea where they live and what exactly they read. Hence there is an element of mystery to this discreet bunch. However, thank you my Russian readers for you support!

(939) A Week in Winter by Marcia Willet

This is an incredibly involved story which is a joy to read. Maudi married Hector, a widower, and was resented by his daughter Selina for most of the latter's life. Hector's first wife, Hilda, apparently was a perfect wife, mother, friend and woman. Interestingly, through the years, Hilda's best friend became Maudi's best friend too.

While Selina hated Maudi and was able to influence her two sons to stay away, her youngest daughter (Posy) loved Maudi. After Hector's death, the story really started with Maudi renovating Moorgate and then putting it on the market. The contractor fell in love with the house while he worked on it. The real estate agent was very fond of the house too. A woman who was terminally ill decided to house hunt for her brother and infant nephew. She drove to view Moorgate and met the contractor when both of them spent nights without the owner's permission. Stranger than fiction, they fell for each other and had a sweet week together. The contractor fully intended to commit to her not knowing she was near death. They put up all they own and purchased Moorgate.  

After the young woman died, her brother took the trouble to travel to Moorgate to hand her good bye letter to the contractor. Somehow, the brother and the contractor became friends. Subsequent to that, the brother visited often with his son. Meanwhile, Maudi asked to visit Moorgate and decided to take Posy. At Moorgate, a second couple fell in love with each other: the brother and Posy. As the contractor realized that he could  not stay on in Moorgate, much as he loved the house but it reminded him too much of the dead girl friend; he sold the house to the brother.

With the sale, the house returned to within the family, as Posy married the deceased's brother. By now, you probably think there is too much co-incidences in the story. But as I flipped through the pages, the story line flowed naturally. Moorgate seemed to be one of those places that weaved its own magic.

In the last part of the book, we saw Hector and Hilda for who they were. Their marriage was not as perfect as others perceived. Selina's own marriage broke up. She found that a close friend was actually her step sister by blood. All that had a ring of truth, someone close to me actually found that out of  her five siblings, three are not the children of her father, revealed by blood types. Ordinary people who appear normal actually had deep and dark secrets.

(938) Not Without My Daughter by Betty Mahmoody

There had been many accounts of American women and their children being brought to their husbands' Middle Eastern countries and kept there against their will. Not Without My Daughter is just a detail documentation of Mahmoody's ordeal of confinement in Iran and her subsequent perilous escape over the snowy mountains in winter to Turkey and then her return to America. Even after her safe return, she had to live under assumed names with her daughter in a secret spot, until the day she dies she will be fearful of retaliation as well as her daughter being kidnapped by the father.

At this point, I think of the petite woman who is my husband's client: she converted to Islam and almost married an Iranian. In her case, she was fortunate that the planned marriage did not take place due to whatever hiccup. I am well aware that there must be many handsome and eligible young men from Iran. The real problem is not them but the system in Iran that considers women and children as chattels of the husbands and fathers. Once a woman married an Iranian, she is an Iranian citizen and not allowed to leave unless her husband permits her to. And I suppose it would take a very smart and determined woman not to allow her husband to take her and her children back to his home country to introduce them to his family.

There are many religious beliefs in my country: Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, Taoism, Hinduism and Bahai faith. Since I was dandled on my grandma's knees I have been indoctrinated against making the mistake of converting into Islam and marrying a Muslim man who is allowed by law to have four wives. I of course went on to train my daughters as best as I can to wisely avoid the pitfall of converting into Islam. You see, one can convert from one to another religion freely except it is impossible to get out of Islam. I do respect the fact that each group is trying to keep their believers on their turf. But I would rather have all my children ultimately professing the Christian faith on their death beds. Should a young girl chooses to marry a Thai man and practice Buddhism for many years, there is no law in this nation that would prevent her from embracing the Christian faith  before she dies.

Each person is free to make a choice in religion and marriage partner, in certain cases the choice could lead to far reaching consequences.

(937) Girl in the mirror by Cecelia Ahern

Elizabeth came into my room with a slim light blue volume. She borrowed it from her main library and insisted I read it before she returned to university.

After I read the two short stories, she asked me if I like it. Well, it was unusual to read a fairy tale bordered on the dark side from Ahern!  I tend to think of her as a female writer that wrote fluffy and entertaining stories that explored interesting topics.

I am surprised that Ahern departed from her genre and experiment with something new. While I have to admit that it is refreshing to read something unexpected, I can't really say I like it. To think that a loving couple is broken up by the mere action of vanity: looking into and touching a magic mirror one has been banned from using since early childhood! A blind woman had to sacrifice a foreign painter with no family in the country to get her grand daughter back into the living world. I know it is fiction, yet it is not pleasant!

Even though I like Cecelia Ahern's work in general, this is one book I do not want to own.

(936) Humor

by Agatha Christie
I am a rather serious person. The fact that I rarely was relaxed enough to joke does not mean I do not enjoy being around folks with a sense of humor.

On page 7 of Murder in Mesopotamia, written by Agatha Christie, we read " Dr. Reilly ... who said all sorts of funny things in a low, sad voice. I think he enjoyed pulling my leg and used to make the most extraordinary statements to see if I would swallow them."

These two lines brought me back to my first Christmas spent in USA. It is a tradition for families to get together for Christmas celebration there. One of my college mates took me home. I met not only her immediate family but her extended family members as well.

One of her uncles was a person full of stories and jokes. As I was the only foreigner there, my leg was pulled many times. There were many tall tales. The most extraordinary things were said. It was a most entertaining and jolly time. That was the first time I heard about Paul Bunyan and Dr. Seuss. Inches of snow fell. Everyone gathered around the fire place. Much food was consumed. As I am typing this piece, I think of the smell of turkey, candied apples, and other Christmas scents.

As the semesters flashed past, I met more Americans. After that I realized those people with a sense of humour would only pick on those they are fond of to play tricks on. I slowly learned that I have to be quick and creative in replying to such jokers. Now that I live on the opposite side of the world, all these seemed like distant memories, did it really happen?

(935) Helping her brother choose his bride?

I chose to marry a man who has a funny sense of humour. As a result there is much laughter and silliness in my house.

Since young, each of my children is given a voice. Even if a child said something that bordered on being a nonsense rhyme, he or she would be heard once. Indeed Kenneth used to quot the dozens of nonsense rhymes he memorised from those huge volumes I borrowed from the public library. It was a competition to guess at what our budding bard was trying to say. I usually win because whatever and however many books I borrowed, I was the only one who have read every single page of every volume I chose to lug home.

You see, I was so poor as a child that the few books I owned were prizes I won at school. The only reading materials I could afford to buy was old Reader's Digest that I bought at every jumble sale or fund raiser. One summer I bought and read 137 different copies at twenty cents each (I think I was 16 then) . Elizabeth asked where are they now? Good question! I would buy and sell them because my mum who is an excellent house cleaner would not allow any old copies to be kept in her house for long. It was not unusual that I had to kill silver worms and ear-wigs before those volumes were allowed entrance.

Once, I borrowed a book on Russian folk tales (when my children were young). There was a story on magic - a man unwittingly chose to marry an evil witch. Kenneth was concerned, he asked me why that unfortunate man was not protected by his family and village. I explained that it was on the man's own head because he did not ask his parents' for their blessings. He decided and went to carry out his own wishes without bringing the girl and chaperone home to meet his parents.

Elizabeth was in the car. As Kenneth (age 9) asked if he could either bring the girl home or maybe I could go to his place to check on his choice when  the time comes. Elizabeth made a gagging noise and went on to tease her brother for wanting to get married. Then she said that she also wanted a say in determining whom her brother marries. Now, if you have met Elizabeth when she was young, you would have realized that her overwhelming sanguine and strong choleric make up would not allow anyone to wriggle out of making a promise to her.

In the end, I explained things this way to Kenneth: suppose if there are five maids awaiting, and Kenneth wittled the choice down to three. And each of the three are just as good and desirable, then there is no harm letting his busy body bossy sister choose the lucky bride. Since Kenneth is very fond of Elizabeth, he promised that if it happens as I postulates, she would be given a say.

Kenneth is a few hundred miles away now. He is in a Linguistic course now and the ratio of women to men is like 3:1. So far, the only girl he kept talking about (from his study group) has a boy friend in another faculty. Yes, he remembered his promise to his sister. Whether he carries it out or not is entirely up to him. If he does, he would have the extra blessing and certainty that he made the right choice. For Elizabeth has a perfect track record in choosing girl friends for herself, I have not had the slightest problem in telling her to distant herself from any of her choices. The only girl I disapprove of is her good friend's best friend. Now that her good friend is in College A, that best friend is in College B, they hardly see each other. And Elizabeth had  not met them in six months. No sweat!

(934) Child brought up by grandparents

This is a story of Aurora's brother. We met Aurora in Hopscotch (Learning disability). I would imagine him to be as intelligent as the sister. In fact, his mum told me that he used to do better in elementary school compared to the elder sister, they were born one year apart.

As the mother was working full time in a demanding family business, number two child was taken care by his  paternal grandparents in a nearby town. Either the parents returned to visit the younger child during the week ends or the grand parent drove up with the younger child to visit weekly. And so it remained like that until the boy was to go into Grade One. For that year, the caring grandma spent an entire year to help the boy adjust to his family. Thereafter, the boy spends his school days with his immediate family but as soon as holidays start, he would go to his grand parents'.

When the boy was about twelve years old, his grand parents moved to a house a few streets away from his own family. Now that distance is no longer a barrier, he hardly spend any nights with his immediate family members. Under the care of permissive aged grand parents, he started frequenting cyber cafes. Once he mixed around bigger boys who no longer went for higher education, he lost interest in his studies. He barely graduated from High School. To stop him from the life style of going out until the wee hours of the night, they encouraged him to work in a hill station. At least for twenty three nights a month, he would be safe in his hostel. As for the week he gets off monthly, they just keep their fingers crossed that nothing untoward would happen to him.

In this family's case, the boy was handed over to the grandparents because he and Aurora was born just one year apart. Since both parents were working at demanding jobs, father a bank employee and mum running a business with long hours. The grandparents were merely trying to help. It is sometimes difficult to space the children. Those who are successful in spacing the children far apart may end up having less children than desired.

(933) Brothers dwelling in harmony

What a picturesque view! A simple homey cabin set in pleasant surroundings. I particularly like the stone paved road.

What a blessing to dwell in peace.

I will bless them that bless thee. Gen 12:3

coorg-row-of-county-cottage.jpg from orangecounty.in

(932) How to get babies with fair skin & good complexion

For mothers in my part of Asia, most of us want to beget fair skin babies. Some believe in drinking soy bean milk everyday. I probably drank soy milk at least three glasses a week throughout my first pregnancy. But believe you me, my eldest was born very fair, but the minute he went to school and started on sports, he became as brown as berries.

Others said no coffee, that I followed to the letter for every pregnancy, yet I did not get fantastic result. By the time I had my last one, I invested in three hundred dollars of bird's nest, spent hours picking swallow's hairs out and double-steam it with rock sugar in boiled then cooled water. I took that in three instalments around the time the skin was supposed to be formed (which I have forgotten exactly what months now). Lo and behold, I had Elizabeth who is not only fair skin,  but she does not tan easily. Looking at her sharp features (not forgetting, I was by then vain enough to pray for physical beauty for a daughter) and my deep tan, some people wondered if I married someone with some Caucasian blood.

Few days back I heard something new: some folks bathe their precious daughters in special liquids. The first day she comes home, open a sample bottle of XO and pour it into the baby's bath water. The second day, it is to add some (1/3 of the smallest bottle) Guinness Stout (black beer) to the bath water. By the third day, you have to buy a bottle white beer and add an equivalent amount to the bath water. Judging by the parents' skin characteristics, their daughter does have much better skin tone and complexion than her parents as well as most girls in town.

You may think me nuts, but I will tuck the idea away. By the time I get my first grand daughter, I will be sure to suggest the idea to my off-spring and spouse. After all, my eldest had a bit of skin rash on his face during his first week, he merited half a bottle of white beer for three or four baths until the rash faded away. It certainly did not do him any harm.

(931) Being the salt and light

Here is a second installment of Mary Po Po(meaning grandma):

She was already in her seventies when I met her. One day I met her on the way back from the market. I asked if she wanted to walk to my house, I have something for her. she declined and said that she had to visit a friend. So we bid each other good bye.

A few days later as I was seated in her porch looking at her thriving green vegetables, she told me whom she visited that morning. She took it upon herself to have a round of visitation of the shut-ins who live within walking distance of her residence. That morning was a eighty five year old widow's day. The previous week she already asked what item the other lady needed that she could carry in her shopping basket.

Apparently she bought spring onion instead of chives as requested. The other old lady was upset and complaint before paying her. Listening to that, I asked if the grumpy lady has any children. The answer is eleven. Then why can't those children take care of her? According to the neighbours the old tyrant refused to move to any of her kids' place. It is sad, but none of her sons came back to visit her the past few years. There were big quarrels before she told them not to come back. A few of her daughters visit and bring her enough to live on. She could be very mean and gave them a hard time. But one daughter continues to leave money with the nearest neighbour even though her mum was being unreasonable and shouted at her for whatever reason.

As you can see, this seventy odd year old Mary Po Po really went beyond the second mile for a rather nasty and unpleasant eighty odd year old woman. Rather amazing, isn't it?

(930) Being stretched

When I was lecturing in a private college before my marriage, my computer students went on vacation for a month. I was secretly looking forward to doing some research to augment my meager teaching notes. However, it was not meant to be. I was drafted into running a series of computer literacy classes for more than five hundred Accountancy students.

I went to planning meetings with the Dean of Accountancy. I talked to the computer lab technicians about facilities and programs the students could use to do my homework.  I went to access the latest programming books to see how things have changed since my Senior year in college. Then I hurriedly planned my lessons, prepare student notes to be printed and visited the lecture theater to test the sound system as well as the over head projection. That was years before power point was available. One week was gone.

The following three weeks were spent teaching, holding lab tutorials and marking the assignments as well as running off the final test. At that point of time I was not only feeling bone weary but was a little upset that I had no opportunity to improve my own subject for the second year of teaching. By now, I saw that experience in a different light. That was the only big challenge I had throughout my teaching career of planning a short course from scratch and then implementing it myself for such a big group of students. Should I need to speak to a sizable audience in the future, I know I have done it before and can prepare to do it again. Perhaps someday that experience would come in handy.

(928) Books that changed my life

When I was troubled as a foreign student, I used to go to the foyer of the little campus chapel and hid in a corner to read Peter Marshall's Prayers. At that point, I was still a free thinker.

After I graduated, I left campus and worked in another state. Every book store I visited, I tried to look for the book I come to count on soothing any inner turmoil. I did not find it, however hard I looked. One day, a friend of mine asked what I was looking for. While I was answering her, her friend who happened to be in the shop heard and within the same day, brought me Mr. Jones, meet the Master. This second book, edited by Catherine Marshall, played a crucial part in convicting me that God is real and that he is interested in me. Based on this personal conviction, I decided to follow the Master and pledged to serve him the rest of my mortal life. Instead of staying on in the States and take up a generous scholarship offer to pursue a Masters degree in The State University of Texas, I came home when I heard God's call to return.

Many years later, I read A Man Called Peter written by C. Marshall. Then I finally realized how one minister whose life was cut short was the source of a worldwide ministry via books and a movie. The last few days I held To Live Again in my hands, also by C. Marshall. Interestingly I could not remember if I have read it before until the third last chapter. I probably did, about fifteen years ago, when I had access to a church library in the vicinity then (not the one I normally attend), through using my friend's membership cards.

When I take a helicopter view of what I just said above, I realize the medium of print is more enduring than a sermon preached in person. Peter Marshall was an outstanding preacher, but there is a physical limitation to how many people could listen to his sermon in his church. But when his sermons are published, then the limitation of time, place and circumstances fall away. The book of sermons given to me was old, dog eared and almost falling apart. But it served its purpose of speaking to me.

Now I am accessing a medium of communication much more powerful than print. To date, I recorded at least one person each from 57 countries reading at least one page of this blog. Anything I blog and not deleted is available 24 hours, 7 days a week absolutely free of charge to anybody with internet access. I thank God that I am here in this age having such a channel of communication. I hope what I wrote will be of help and be an encouragement to you.

(927) Flying chalk

This is my children's favorite of my teaching stories.

As a paid teacher or tutor, I have taught children as young as three years old in reading; as well as offered a computer literacy course to a woman as old as fifty-seven. During my temporary teaching stint, I taught Grade 3,4, and  5. In tutoring remedial English through the years, I have probably taught From 1 through 5. Most of my institutional teaching has been done in five colleges and universities.

There was a day that I completely lost my cool and threw a small piece of chalk at a student who continued on to whisper sweet nothings to his would be conquest, I presumed. I am usually a very clumsy thrower, but that day I just flung that piece of chalk and hit the young man's fore head. He was stunned. I remembered telling him that he was excused to leave the science laboratory I was using to have a private conference with his lady partner outside. He did not leave. But the entire class clamped down I did not hear any whisper for the rest of the hour.  

If I do not remember wrongly, that was a second year class. They were at least twenty years old. For most of them who left their home town to further their studies, they live away their parents. My children were incredulous that none complained to their parents. To answer that, my husband said that they would rather die than to be humiliated in front of their parents at that age. Well, my eldest said, why did the one being hit complain to the college office? I remember how well I got along with the office staff, nobody could find any fault with me as a part-time lecturer. If anything, I was working harder and did a better job than most of the full-timers. If he had been daring enough to complain, he would only make himself into a laughing stock among the college officials. The only remaining recourse would be to make a police report, yet moments after the chalk hit, he immediately rubbed away the chalk dust and thus erased all the evidence.There was no wound, no blue black, there would be no case.

After that incident, there had been no other disciplinary problem I face in teaching there subsequent semesters. My reputation went before me, all my students were in class on time every lecture. None dared to ask for toilet break during my class. I know I sound like a dragon lady in relating these, but after having the class under control I did enjoy teaching and usually got quite close to my students. Years later, a few of them told me that when they gathered together, they would recall my classes and the fun we had together. Well, that part of my life is over. I did not garner myself a Master's degree, in today's college market, I would not get another teaching job. Looking back, it was hard for me now to see how I became angry enough to do something like that.

(926) Intuition

Just like the two lady police officers in California, most mothers could sense something the matter with certain children. It is more of whether they choose to tell the mothers concerned. Lately, more people become  concerned about one child in our group who shows no eye contact with  adults around him, neither does he respond to other children, whether younger or older than him. We could almost feel a collective sense of relief when we heard that this boy had  gone for an evaluation. Now we know that he is in able hands and suitable therapy will be given.

This brought another case to mind. Ten years back, I was concerned enough to urge a dear friend to have her girl checked. There I ran the risk of losing an old friend. It was fortunate that she took it in her stride. Since money was no object and she had a sister residing in UK, she took her girl there for a comprehensive developmental examination. The girl was almost five at that point, the experts refused to give any label. They  merely said that she was two years behind in her development. Her hearing was affected as she had gluey ears; sometimes she could hear, other times she could not. The hearing problem caused her speech delay. The problem of delay speech in turn caused her to be frustrated and moody. Many medical checks and years of close attention from a loving mom who gave up her promising career brought the girl around.

Children are gifts from above. Sometimes it could mean a lot of hard work, heart break, frustration, struggles and persistence before we could bring out the deeply hidden potential in them.

* A-coral-seen-off-Jarvis-I-002 from static.guim.co.uk

(925) A contributing citizen

My fellowship group member, Winnie, is a person who was once voluntarily committed to an asylum but since recovered.

I don't want to give a wrong impression that there is no hope for all depressive cases turned psychotic. Winnie claimed that it was black magic aimed at her because of jealousy that caused her loss of sanity. I have no way of verifying this claim. Let us concentrate on what I have observed since the day she joined us at a "Bring your friend to hear about the Christmas story" event.

One thing I learn from providing transport to Winnie to enable her to attend fellowship meetings is that it is extremely hard for a recovered member to secure long term employment. Winnie has a decent Senior Cambridge certificate. The first job that she managed to keep for three months, after her release, was washing dishes at a nearby eatery. Each month when she had to turn up at the Government Clinic for her compulsory jab, she had to lie to get leave. By nature she is truthful, so when the boss found that she needed the jab because of her medical history, she was terminated.

There is a silver lining behind every dark cloud. For Winnie, the blessing came in the form of Eva, a retired social worker. Eva heard about how Winnie needed to start at seven in the morning to catch two buses, queue for half a day to wait for her turn to get that very important jab. After that, she had to battle after work traffic to get home. It actually took a whole day each month to keep herself well. Believe it or not, it was just about ten miles from Winnie's house to the Clinic. The compassionate heart of Eva went out to Winnie. Eva went to talk to her friend who is rich, this rich friend happened to be kind enough to donate thirty dollars a month: twelve dollars for taxi travel to Clinic, six dollars for food and drink, and remaining twelve dollars for taxi return. With this thoughtful financial provision, Winnie could cut the entire journey to half a day. That enabled her to keep her next job for one and a half years.

And so Winnie was gainfully employed. Slowly she opened up herself to us in the fellowship group and we find her a most delightful person to know. Through the years Eva did not stop at continuing to provide transportation allowance. She encouraged and advised Winnie to look for and keep employers who accept her past who are willing to write letters certifying her fit for employment. Eva managed to have Winnie registered at the local social welfare office. A thorough investigation was conducted. The proper paperwork was filed. Finally the State Social Welfare placed her on the permanent roll for welfare payment. If she could prove that she was employed, she would receive two hundred and forty dollars monthly. It may sound little to you, but to Winnie it was a heaven sent - a sizable amount. Even when she lost her job for three weeks due to her employer retiring, Winnie was given the second tier benefit of one hundred and eighty dollars for that particular month.


What I am recording here is not the bad result of  a medical history, but it is the resilient human spirit. With help and support from those around, a former psychotic patient could and does recover fully. It took love from Winnie's family members. It was concern that caused her friend to bring her to my group.  It was compassion that brought financial assistance. And finally it was special knowledge that enable Winnie to find state help so that she does not need to continue to remain a financial burden to her family members who are also poor themselves.

(924) The Ambler Warning by Robert Ludlum

Is there a spear that would penetrate anything? Or is there a shield that nothing could penetrate?

Harrison Ambler is a human lie detector. But there is a great actress who fell into her role so well that even Ambler could not detect her lie. As Ambler was able to discern in time and prevented her from shooting a world statesman down, the plot that a group took years to set up tumbled into shambles. More than that, a desk jockey from the back office of CIA wired the inner office into a TV studio with the help of his assistant from stateside, the bad guys' evil plot was openly broadcast to conference attendees.

Life as FBI or CIA agents have always been depicted as exciting and glamorous. But when Ambler was caught as confined in a secret psychiatric facility, he became an ex-agent with no past. It made an interesting read in how he worked against the system and finally could become himself again, when the higher-up guilty party fell.

(923) Buttons and Princess

Sandy has two cats in her house. Two years ago her mum let her choose a kitten  for her birthday. A few months later, it was her sister Serene's birthday. Serene had set her heart on a kitten. Despite the parents' displeasure, they could not deny her the wish. Therefore they specified that was the last pet to be acquired. Peter and Philip could not ask for pets for that year.

Sandy called her cat Buttons as there were markings on the body that look like buttons. Serene called hers Princess. Buttons and Princess are great friends. They eat together, sharing food. They sleep together in a big basket lined with a furry blanket. They play together too. Princess loves watching tv while Buttons specialises in escaping. Anyone leaving the house must watch that Buttons is not within striking distance of the main door. Any carelessness would mean Buttons going a.w.o.l. for as long as 24 hours.

One day Buttons ran out and did not come back. The entire family went out to look for Buttons. The next day Serene heard from a friend that lives nearby that Buttons was run over by a bus. Meanwhile Princess looked bewildered. She walked into every  room looking for Buttons. Gradually, she would lie down in front of the main entrance waiting for Buttons to appear. She went off food and would only drink some milk if Serene forced her.

Slowly, Princess looked listless and lost weight. Everyone was worried and Mum took her to the vet. The verdict is that animals that pines for their companion could give up living and die of starvation. Nobody wants that to happen, one possible cure would be to adopt another kitten. They looked high and low for another kitten that has Buttons' markings. Finally they found one in a pet shop in the next suburb.

It was like a fairy tale to see Princess on the road to recovery once the kitten came home. Soon the cat and kitten are rolling over and over on the living room floor. Both eat voraciously. The kitten grew by leaps and bounds. Princess puts on the weight she lost and was healthy in no time at all.

- a friend loves at all times. -

sarahoddy cats died ori from thecatzine.com

(922) Tragedy

A grief stricken woman held a bible with scorched covers in her hands; her unseeing eyes registering far away images in her memories from years gone by.


The grieving woman was the elder sister of a lady who was returning from a far away country upon the completion of her Ph.D. Except the returning lady did not arrive, the plane crashed in a thunder storm a few hundred km short of the destination.


The deceased was a devout born-again Christian. The grieving sister was a practising Taoist. The miraculous survival of the deceased's bible was the final link between the two sisters cruelly separated by the tragic crash.


As the grieving party carefully read the cherished bible and the many notes written inside, faith grew in her heart. She chose to embrace the God of her beloved sister. Had the younger sister not departed in such an abrupt manner, it would probably have taken her much longer to adopt her new found faith.

* audio ps3 flower from gamepeople.co.uk

(921) The Great Automatic Grammatizator by Roald Dahl

Roald Dahl came out with the most original stories. Whoever would conceive the idea of making a machine to write fiction? Of course at the current technological level, it probably is not possible. But he wrote one convincing story of cornering the market for creating and selling fiction.

With half the world busy getting married and then divorcing the perfect matches at great financial cost, I bet all the poor guys coughing out maintenance and alimony love the story "Mrs Bixby and the Colonel's Coat". For once, the cheating wife was outwitted by her cheating husband.

In "The Butler", the new rich was gotten the better by the butler and the cook. There was not much point in showing off by expensive wining and dining when one does not know good wine from bad.

If you are a betting person, you would enjoy The Man from the South. In betting one finger against a nice car, many lost their fingers over trivial bets.

From tenants, we hear all kinds of stories about nasty land ladies. Yet none would beat Dahl's "The Landlady" who killed and preserved her young and handsome tenants.

A crook pretended to be a parson in going round to different farm houses to buy antique furniture cheap. Most of the time, he won in his deals, but in one particular case he got his due coming.

Better than pan handling, "The Umbrella Man" makes a quick buck "selling" umbrellas that did not belong to him on rainy days.

Katina was a war orphan Dahl's unit adopted during WW2. It was sad that she did not live long enough to be evacuated to USA as in the case of a Vietnamese boy during the Vietnam War.

My children and I are equally enthralled by Roald Dahl.

(920) Illegal adoption

Yesterday I watched a news outbreak regarding illegal adoptions in Spain. There individuals recounted on how they did not know they were adopted until it was revealed to them, sometimes at the death beds of one adoptive parent.

Here I will relate what I heard over tea many years ago. A friend heard from a contact that the latter bought a baby which came with a legitimate birth certificate. It all started with the contact's business associate giving his phone number to a marketing person of a baby for sale ring. This marketing man called and gave a meeting place and a meeting time. It was quite a public place during a quiet lull. The prospective parents drove to the meeting place, shortly after a dark vehicle with tinted windows drew along side. Two car doors opened, the marketing man came out first, then a middle age nanny came out with an infant. The infant was passed from the arms of the nanny to the prospective mum who was still seated in her car. The confident and suave marketing man said there is a try out period of three days, if not the infant could be returned. Time and place to be arranged.

And so this couple played mum and dad for three days. At the end of the try out period, they decided to pay for the infant as all medical tests came out clean. An appointment was made, they met in a rather quiet restaurant during off peak hours. The new father found out that his infant was the product of paid (willing) teenager from a hill tribe in a rural area and from a healthy man free of Aids. There was no trauma, no violence, and the expectant mother was given nutritious food and good care in a conducive environment. A great deal of cash exchanged hand and the deal was completed.

In such cases, the adopted child will never find its natural parents. It is just as well that the biological parents are from different races than that of the adoptive parents. Hopefully then the chances of such a child eventually marrying children of its biological parents would be slim.

(919) Genetic Variation

Moved from 389 to be next to a companion blog

The first few months I landed in my college on the Eastern Seaboard of USA, I used to correspond with my brother by aerograms. In one of those newsy letters, I was informed of my cousin's suicide attempt. He was born and bred in southern China. Unfortunately, he won a place in a prestigious university in northern China. Within a few months, he was clinically depressed. Sadly, he had one failed suicide within the first year. After lengthy hospitalization, he was diagnosed with the sunlight related disease, quite a long name with many syllables. You see, should his brain not receive certain hours of bright sunlight per day, his brain chemicals begin to change and he tailspins slowly but surely into severe depression.

I was astounded by the sad news. Being born and bred for twenty years in a bright and sunny tropical country, I have taken the sun for granted. As long as I have breath and it does not rain, the sun shall shine. Not so in temperate America! Within three weeks of a wet, dim and drizzly spring, my usual even temper began to change. I was easily irritated and would snap readily when others tried to be difficult in dealing with me. The first year, my good friends used to snicker behind my back and whisper PMS (Pre-Menstrual syndrome). Some of them would be extra gentle and handle me with kid gloves. By second year, a few saw the pattern and actually marked my outbursts on their desk top calendars. One was brave enough to confront me once the spring rain stopped and asked if I have a genetic abnormality. I did not seek a medical diagnosis. By third year, I found that a few hours of reading next to my dorm mate's tanning lamp would negate the forces of darkness.

That was the early eighties. This is now a good thirty years later. I recently mentioned about my little infirmity to another cousin who is about ten years my junior. Guess what? She went right on to tell me about her problems. Since she did not study abroad, she did not realize she inherited the same set of faulty genes until our country had a really bad bout of haze -- when the readings went well above the double digits for weeks. That year, my brother had a tough time hunting for good guava because the harvest was badly affected by the haze. The unit price of retail guava skyrocketed and still one cannot get a hold of the usual big and plump round guava. During those days of sub-standard lighting, my cousin would come home from work and wept at the slightest provocation. She used to feel slighted easily and felt unwanted and unloved by anyone she came across. It is funny that on normal days she is a strong minded person whose head sits squarely on her level shoulders.

Just last week I finally gathered up the courage to tell my brothers about these three cases within the family.
- My cousin who was clinically depressed in northern China.
- I who would switch and turn into quite a bitch when the weather became gloomy.
- My other cousin who would be weepy and helpless in a period of dull, hazy days.
It did not end here, my niece went to England and failed no matter how hard she worked. Her brother actually believed she became depressed and reclusive. If you count our small family group, the number seemed significant.

My grandma who migrated from Canton had four children. The eldest daughter had two children, neither of those two had ever lived abroad. So we can't tell if they are blessed by the presence of those genetic aberration. The second boy grew to be the father of my weepy cousin when the sun hides itself behind thick haze. My mum is the third girl and she begets me who would snap at all and sundry in the spring rain. My eldest brother has a daughter who may very well be part of the club. She came back from England with the long winter nights and thrives now in our hot sunny weather. My grandma's youngest son has two children, out of which came the elder one who suffered the most because he ventured to a place with little sunlight in winter.

Not counting spouses, we boast of eighteen direct descendants from my maternal grandma. (f1 generation of four siblings have never lived away from the equator for any extended period of time) Out of eighteen individuals, we have at least three (f2 generation) whom believe they are bearers of the faulty genes. And one suspected case in the f 3 generation. That is close to a quarter. Frightening! But as long as those affected ones stick around the equator, they will be perfectly alright as long as haze does not hit too badly.