(461) Parenting -- seventy years ago

My grand ma was great at story telling. One day she happened to talk about a local millionaire. We would normally assume that the son of this millionaire would go to school in an expensive car driven by a uniformed driver. Apparently such a picture does not include his son.

This millionaire owned a huge bungalow a stone's throw away from a mission school. His son walked to school. Not only he was not given privileges as a rich man's son. He was brought up as a working man's son. When he finished schooling, he was sent up north to start at the lowest job at his father's factory. He was billeted at the workers' hostel.

Even millionaires grew old. In his old age this man would take his eldest son's son to a coffee shop most mornings. He would order one coffee without milk - it was five cents cheaper than a cup with milk. Then he asked for a glass of hot water. With the practised ease of an acrobat, he remixed the coffee into two portions. The old man took the bigger portion and the young boy was given the diluted beverage in the smaller cup.

Legends came down the generation that the entire fortune was frittered away by this young boy. This family comprised of many aunts and sisters. In the olden days, female off springs were not entitled to any share of the family fortune. There was only one son for the millionaire. This only son begot only one son too. I leave it to you to ponder over why the son turned out well but not the grand son.

(458) Memories

While I was bringing up the children, I did not own a car. When Keziah first started ballet, we used to walk there. Instead of dropping her and run else where, I would stay and watch the lesson from the waiting area. I must have watched every single lesson for about six months at least. I used to think I wasted a lot of time doing things like that. After all, none of my other children took ballet from age three. So there is really no use learning the technique of coaching little girls.

Pastor preached from the pulpit just last week that nothing we do is wasted in God's sight. If we allow God to use every bit of our past, everything  we've been through could glorify him.

A few days later I was watching Uncle Clement playing with Nisha. Nisha is a two and half year old who is very active. She loved being thrown up and then being caught on her way down. I was utterly amazed at her fearlessness. She was spatially confident. I watched the way she flexed her feet. I noticed her muscular control when she was being lifted by her wrists.

Normally I try not to act too smart. After all, I don't really have any real paper qualification to back up what I say, even if I am right. At that moment, My brain was just calculating and comparing mental images stored up. Words came out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

 "Look at her ankle to toes, she is having perfect control over them. Keziah, it took you three months to learn that. And you were one of the fastest in your class of thirteen."

Oh-oh! Chatter box mum had done it again! No one in this city knew Keziah had a few years of ballet in our small town life years ago. I know I have a fantastic memory of children and things related to children's learning. But then I did not expect myself to store a bunch of not relevant info for so many years. I suppose it is relevant to Nisha's mum. She was being encouraged. And we know she needs all the encouragements she could get. Nisha is advanced in every field except speech. Guess what my big mouth told her mum? Without thinking, I said most children improves verbally on a rather straight line going up an incline. But Nisha's curve would be exponential. That means hardly any measurable improvements for months, and one day she would grow unaccountably by leaps and bounds. After I said that, I wonder where the idea came from. Later Keziah asked me how did I know. She said I sounded absolutely certain. I had to think about that for a few hours. Couldn't be quite sure how I knew, but I was certain I have seen a child like Nisha in my past. Maybe it was a movie, a documentary, a real child I heard being described by a parent or  a teacher ... Keziah was right, I was and am still absolutely certain of what I said.

(456) What three men said

My husband went to a social occasion a few days ago. After the meal, he sat down with a few men and talked shop. Since these are people over fifty years old, they are all financially savvy.

One men said that he just sold every bit of investment he owned in North America. But why? A second man said that he went to change the local dollar to American dollar. Guess what, the money changer no longer stock dollars beyond what they need on a daily basis. He has to negotiate a rate and then go back in a few hours to collect the foreign notes. A third man  who reads the Chinese newspaper commented that the Chinese government was switching their US treasury bills  to US properties.

It seems like the market is buzzing about an imminent devaluation of the green back. All these are market sentiments. Probably groundless and rumour mongering. Please note that this dyslexic rambler is not a back yard economist. I can't tell what is advance warning and what is rumours! What interests me is that if such a devaluation happens at the crucial few days when we could exchange the little that we have put aside for Elizabeth's tuition, her dream of studying in USA can come true. And it would be by God's grace and providence.

(454) Prawn mee lady

There is a shop nearby that sells different types of noodles on different days of the week. The old lady managed her business with the help of a young lady. I have always thought that it was a mother and daughter team. My friend Annie said it was a mistress-foreign maid team. She judged by the skin colour. I went by the easy familiarity between young and old persons.

Food was good, therefore we returned many times. What I find inconvenient is the fact that most of the time they sell out by eleven o'clock before noon. I know the location of the shop is  not good. Most customers are regulars. I suppose it is not smart to over produce and be bogged down by selling well past lunch time. But still, shouldn't anybody make a little more so that people who eat early lunch will still find something to buy?

I guess I am not a chatty customer. I have not suggested anything to either lady one way or another. What I noticed is that many regulars stay and become good friends with the two. One day there was a tiff between the old lady and the young helper. As soon as I sat down, I could sense some tension. Since I was hungry, I just bowed my head and ate as fast as the hot soup cooled. The old lady walked right past me and grumbled, "Even my daughter dared not raised her voice in talking to me!" I was so utterly taken aback. Before I realized it, I answered,"O dear, I thought she was your daughter!" The old lady gave me an incredulous look and went noisily over to wash coffee cups.

After that incident, I noticed that both the owner and the helper were a little friendlier to me. Perhaps they wrote me off as a person who is totally unfriendly. Hey! A customer who does not chit chat with other patrons or the server need not mean she is unsociable. I merely keep quiet because the patrons are usually rough looking men. These are traveling salesmen, truck drivers, service people like air-con repairmen and delivery folks.

note: mee is a Hokkien word meaning yellow wheat noodle. Prawn mee is an overseas Hokkien food: noodle, beansprout or green vegetable, prawns, fish cake slices, lean pork slices, half an egg(hard boiled) in spicy soup, topped by fried shallot. I love to eat it but try to limit it to once a week because the soup was made by boiling prawn shells and heads for hours.

(453) New customer of McDonald

To relieve my mother from cooking lunch, I have been purchasing food for my niece. Lately she got tired of the many types of noodles available. I started buying McDonald breakfast. Since it is easier to buy what I need from the same place, so McDonald it is for everyone.

I know my mum likes McEgg. But it is really hilarious to see her enjoying the so-call ed western fast food. She is normally so Chinese in her taste. I really did not expect her to enjoy chicken sausage and cheese. Today she ate her chicken sausage and egg and cheese with gusto. Surprisingly the next time that I will bring lunch, both of them want the same food again.

If  McDonald can sign on a new consumer like a thrifty old lady, it can win anyone as customers. No wonder it is a world giant in the food business.

(452) The moving finger -- intelligence

by Agatha Christie

At the bottom of page 123, it was written: "I can see you are a very clever young man -- but not quite enough confidence in yourself. You ought to have!"

There is this young man in my church. He is more intelligent than his result suggests. Until he enter a course in his area of passion, even he himself lacks confidence. When he was struggling with a major he was not interested in, he failed. It took him some time working. Then he took a short course and passed before he dared to sign up in his area of interest. Miracle of miracles, he was on the dean's list the very first semester.

So it was as if Miss Marple was having him (from my church) in mind when she made that remark!

(448) Endless night -- fate?

by Agatha Christie

We read on page 182: "Every night and every morn," I sang it under my breath," 'Some to misery are born. Every morn and every night some are born to sweet delight.' That's Ellie, Greta. She was born to sweet delight. ... Mum ... knew I was born to endless night. ... And Santonix knew. ..."

Ellie was the rich heiress that was murdered by her husband, who was telling Greta that he was born to suffer whatever he chose to commit himself to. Greta is the original person who wanted Ellie's wealth. She persuaded the young man to lure Ellie into marriage. The plan was to kill her and much later murderer and conspirator would enjoy the wealth in a far away land. It was not to be. Santonix was the architect who built the most luxurious house money could buy.

 Before we were born, every day of our lives was written in a book. Could we escape from what was written? Are we controlled by what was loosely termed "fate"? I chose to think each of us is born with a set of pre-determine inclinations. We often can't choose our circumstances. But we can choose what we do. I can choose contentment instead of greed. I can choose to obey God's call rather than follow personal ambition. I can choose a simple life style rather than an all consuming materialistic life. From the way everyone sees, perhaps you may think I am stupid. But in terms of eternity, it is the only option for me.

(446) A murder is announced - parallels

by Agatha Christie

If you look at page 249 in "A Murder is Announced", you will find: "...She (Charlotte) was actually a kindly affectionate creature." That was rather an odd thing to say about a murderess! If you continue to read on, you'll see: "weak and kindly people are often very treacherous. And if they've got a grudge against life it saps the little moral strength that they possess."

In one of my earlier blogs I wrote about my old care group invited a psychotic patient to our meetings. When things were moving along well, that was when the lady patient took her medication regularly; she was a very kindly affectionate person. All of us in the care group felt her charm. Unfortunately, there were times when she was not taking her medication as prescribed by the doctor. Then we had to be very careful in what we said during the meeting and fellowship time. Her sickness made her paranoid and suspicious. If she took offense at what anyone said, then there would be ugly confrontations.

One time she was hospitalized in the psychiatric ward. A few of us visited her in the hospital. The other care group members visited her parents. From what the parents said, she went raving mad (it took three men to restrain her) and almost chopped her younger brother with a sharp meat knife. All because her brother told her to go get a job instead of asking for money from her parents. The patient grudged her siblings their normality. She did not pass her high school exam and she could not accept the failure. She was very upset that her condition prevented her from marriage and becoming a mother. No one dares to belittle her in any way. She was very ready to retaliate with any thing that can function as a weapon. All these happened in spite of the fact that she was normally  soft spoken and gentle.

(444) Top of the pop

To my dear readers,
I thank you for reading this blog. As of this minute, you have collectively achieved 2022 page views since the inception of ramblings of a dyslexic.

Here I am recording for your convenience the ten top blogs:
134 Upbringing
374 Interesting building 62
160 Upbringing 20
155 You Changed My Life by Max Lucado
389 Genetic variation
211 Upbringing 24
206 Learning difficulties 9
150 Upbringing 13
395 Hearts of gold
392 Time Capsule

Happy reading!

(443) Tales of the unexpected by Roald Dahl

From the days I was hunting for books for my children, I fell in love with the books of Roald Dahl.

Recently, I had a lot of fun rereading his entire collection in the British Council library. Apart from Enid Blyton, I can't think of a better children's author. However, the book I am writing about is written for adults.

If you like justice for a faithless husband -- try Lamb to the Slaughter.
For a gambler's tale                               -- read Man from the South.
Guess the fate of eavesdroppers            -- My Lady Love, My Dove.
Risk losing your money                          -- go Dip in the Pool.
Remember the school bully                    -- you'll enjoy Galloping Foxley.
Want a bit of suspense                           -- you will like Skin
Men who are hen pecked                       -- go for Neck.
For revenge to the fair sex                      -- there's none better than Nunc Dimittis.
Warning to a bargain lover                      -- find The Landlady.
Suppose you think death will part
you from your wife                                  -- read William and Mary

Husband, do not bully your wife              -- or you may choose The Way up to Heaven
Actors who enjoy cheating                      -- check out Parson's Pleasure
Wives who make fools of hubby              -- learn from Mrs Bixby and the Colonel's Coat
For a twilight zone story                          -- read Royal Jelly
The last story - Edward the Conqueror, I won't give you any clue, go read it yourself! It is quite a tale!

(442) Language difficulties

Prior to the conference, the organizer mentioned a little about the back ground of a few of the attendees. I kept the information in my heart. When I met two of those I had been thinking about, my suspicions were confirmed.

We will talk about the one who came for the conference a second time. When I brought up reading difficulties and the different learning styles due to different dominant brain hemispheres, she was all ears. Sad to say, it is not common to come across such topics in the local Chinese mass media. Hence she was behind her English-educated sisters in the group of language challenged individuals.

Today, I met her ex-youth group leader. I shared my insight with her. After getting the terminologies right ( reading difficulties is "Yuet doo chunk ngai" and dyslexia is "chor yew boo fun". Pardon me that I am new to han yue pin yin as I was old enough to have learned the "po pour mo phor".), she caught my line of thoughts immediately. As long as the person concerned is happy with herself as she is, I would not waste time telling her things she does not need to know. But in this case, she has wondered about this all her life:
1. She knows she is not stupid.
2. But why is it so difficult for her to switch from Chinese to English?
3. Working as hard as she could, she has never seemed to make any headway learning the national language that uses roman letters.
4. When she is half listening to something, she seems to be able to catch more than if she pays full attention.

From what I know, that is entirely consistent with a pictorial gifted dyslexic. A dyslexic may have difficulties with a phonics based language like English. At the one and same time she may be very adept and quick in learning a pictorial symbol based language like Chinese. This ex-youth leader asked me if it is possible for  such a person to get frustrated, disappointed, humiliated and shamed into being closed up, could it lead to schizophrenia? The answer is yes, I met with one, my former care group member's sister. When I visited her in the convalescent home within the state asylum, she was totally sane. The many times they discharged her each led to either she became raving mad or violently suicidal. Hence by mutual choice, she remains within the system. There she serves quietly in whatever capacity they allow her to. She has been sane and happy for about eight years then. That particular visit was ten years ago.

(441) The real estate bubble

My friend Mandy is looking for a house to retire in. Since she is single, a three room condo would be acceptable. Even though she has a valid driver's license, she has not driven in the last ten years. That handicap would limit her to properties within five hundred yards to a sub way station.

She has been viewing, what fits her criteria does not go for less than four hundred thousand. But her budget is three hundred thousand. Her real estate agent advised her to wait a year or two as the speculation driven bubble has to break at some point. Meanwhile, I suggest that she looks at three room condo a little further from the city that are near future lines. In fact that day my daughter saw some initial earth work done in the vicinity of a future sub-way line.

I am not surprised that she was not interested. Fifteen years ago she was in a position to buy apartments. She insisted she really wanted a linked house. Eight years ago she finally saved up enough to put a down payment on her dream house. Looking back, she saw her friend who purchased apartments owning two to three properties by the time she was struggling with paying for her first house. She waited and actually has to pay at least a hundred thousand more for the same type of house her friend bought five to ten years earlier.

You see, those friends started with a two room apartment. When they earn a little more, they pay down payment for a three room apartment. Once they get the keys to the new property, the let out the old one and live in the new one. When they are offered a good price for the first property, they sold immediately and bought a landed property. Meanwhile, Mandy's hard earned savings were actually staying idle in the bank earning little interest. She dares not invest in the stock market or unit trust. Year by year her savings in real terms dwindles because it cannot grow at the rate of inflation.

(440) Female to male ratio

It is a statistical fact that female out numbers male in most societies. The only exceptions to the case would be some parts of China and India. That would probably be due to female genocide made possible by pre-natal ultrasound scans.

The inevitable result of such a ratio would be unmarried females not because they did not want marriage. I have a classmate who would consider match-making. She told me and another town crier. I move around in Christian circles. Since I have not worked outside the house for many years, thought as I might, I can't think of a single bachelor I know well enough to introduce to her who is not a believer. This dear classmate of mine is a Buddhist. Much as I wanted to, I can not be of help.

There is a widow who is my neighbour. I met her the other day. She had on a black little number, I almost could not recognise her. The outfit took twenty years away. She normally looks about fifty in her serious working clothes. That evening she looked young and glamourous. I certainly hope that her internet dating would bear fruits.

Further down the row of houses are two single mothers. Their children are grown and out working. The mothers are relatively young and attractive. As far as I know, their respective ex-husbands are happily  hitched with second wives. Perhaps the bringing up of a brood of kids present a barrier to dating that would lead to marriage for these women. They are still looking around.

(439) You want to write a book?

I have two friends who want to write books. Both have unique experiences. Both possess the potential to birth good books that will help thousands.

Amy is busy in the ministry. She lives by faith. The other day she actually found a free book on line. A mutual friend sent it to her. Since that author wrote exactly what she desired to write, and he did a marvelous job of it; she is freed from the task. I think it is called "The Naked Church".

Betty is busy earning a living. She does have free time, but she is afraid of putting down her thoughts. She is afraid of being misunderstood. She is also afraid of others' reaction should it be published. Now and then when she has the compulsion to journal, she logs it in an external drive that is under lock and key.

A few years ago, I too was afraid to write. But everything changed with the world wide web and the advent of blogging. Among millions of blogs, if you choose to read and follow mine; it would definitely not be by chance. I can continue to write what my heart desires to record. Any time you can choose to stop reading. If what I wrote helps you, let us praise God together. If not, this blog is not meant for you.

Someday, perhaps my gifted son may arrange and edit my work, should there be a demand for it; he will look into publishing it (whether e-publishing or the normal paper kind). Hey, no sweat! After all, there is no great need on my part for recognition. If I can let go of the possibility of earning with my writing, this is the perfect medium of reaching for people who either enjoy or need to read my thoughts/ experience. What a blessing the internet is!

(438) Changing norms

Fifty years ago, mothers-in-law ruled. Now, the power play changed. With education and paying jobs, the playing field is leveled. Generally speaking, daughters-in-law have an easier time.

We will look at a real case. A soft-spoken man who allowed his bossy girl friend to corner him into marriage is now a father of four. Since he is the only son, it was always assumed that his mother would be taken care of by him and his wife. For the years when the children were young, things went well. As soon as the youngest reached the age that a pre-school accepts, pressure started mounting for the mother-in-law to leave. There was no quarrels. Just cold shoulder and silence. The all powerful woman would take her four kids and spend time away from home. Only at mid-night she would bring them back. After friction mounted in the house, the intelligent mother-in-law became the sacrificial lamb. She moved out to preserve her beloved son's marriage.

But what kind of marriage is it? Whatever menial task the mother-in-law used to shoulder fell onto the husband's lap. It is the husband that checked the children's bag for home work. It is he who woke up early to cook breakfast for the school going children. It is he who braved traffic jam to send them to school. Our all-powerful queen would wake up at nine to get to work at ten. She caters for her food. The children fends for themselves as best as they can. The only thing she does in her house is ironing her own working clothes.

Mr. nice guy with no temper just grins and bears it all. I wonder if he would bring up more queen bees who does not toil. Would he bring up more spineless so call men?

(437) Long lost grand uncle

My grand ma was born in the capital city of Kwangtong over a hundred years ago. On the day of her birth, her biological mother passed on. In those days, there was no formula milk. The family was not wealthy enough to hire a wet nurse. She was given away to a peasant family nearby.

It turned out that her adopted family loved her. When she was ten years old, her natural brother came to redeem her. If she had nodded her head, she would be bought back to be a part of her biological family. She would have had a chance to be educated. Her birth family was middle-class and they were Christian. When China fell to communist hands, her biological brother went to Hong Kong. My grand ma actually visited him on her trip back to Canton to visit her relatives. By now, he must have passed on as he was older than  my grandma. It seemed that there were two step-sisters. One of them was a teacher and the other one was a bible woman - what we call the full time worker in our churches here.

My grandma was a run away lamb, she herself chose to be a pagan. Rightfully, she should have a Christian heritage. However, her eldest son and his family are practising believers now. My mum, who is the younger daughter, now prays about her deepest concerns at night when she cannot sleep. No, you won't caught her dead in church. She is scared that once she steps into church, she would have to hand over money to the over fed leaders and pastors. I, of course, do not hold to such views. What God wants, is her love, trust, obedience and fellowship,  money is really the least of God's concerns.

Some where in this big, wide world are possibly a few descendants of  this grand uncle. If word of mouth is accurate, those step sisters were unmarried and childless.

(436) The two worlds

There is one universe that all mortals share. But there are multiple private worlds that each mortal owns. Here I propose to contrast what I perceive of two vastly different worlds.

This blog arises from my comment to my husband,"Agatha Christie saw the world differently from others!" Being married to a mathematically minded person, I have learned to qualify my every statement.

The first person I have chosen is a fictitious character: Mrs Ariadne Oliver from Christie's books. Some may see her as Christie's alter ego. Here I do not claim that. Neither do I deny that. It is simply the fact that I know too little to comment.

The second person is a good friend I have known since my student days. I am still in touch with her. We shall call her Sheryl.

Mrs Oliver's world seemed to revolve around the creation of detective novels that brought her fame that she found hard to deal with in public. As a notable authoress, she could not live the life of a recluse. Through her association with Hercule Poirot, she actually experienced the excitement of hunting for murderers. She may seem scattered, yet her brain was crystal clear. She may seem fussy, but actually she is very ready and game to get into trouble and fall headlong into life threatening adventures.

Now we move onto Sheryl's world. She is a spoilt youngest child in a big family. Between her and the second last sibling, there was a big gap. Her parents were almost through with child rearing then and left her largely on her own. She grew up mainly with friends and school mates. She was like an ugly duckling that turned into a swan in her college years. She caught her prince, so she thought. But the reverse is true. It was really her prince who contrived and caught her. After a whirlwind romance, the lucky couple settled down to wedded bliss.

Here I step onto rather thin ice, if both parties decided not to have children or one is barren, the marriage would not have soured. And so the fun world of my Sheryl turned into a dungeon of torture. There are many party girls I have known and enjoyed their company of. Fortunately none of them chose highly intellectual and serious husbands.

There is nothing wrong with having a view of the world as fun and game, provided one manages to keep it light and easy. Some of my party friends are still single and enjoy the freedom of an unstructured life. One or two did get married to men with good sense of humour. It is OK to share a life together if both can find similar things to laugh about.

The redeeming factor of Sheryl's life is that there is no lack of vitamin K. It is fortunate that she has enough cash to pursue the excitement of expensive food, beautiful clothes and entertainment. Mrs Oliver could be a widow? Or maybe she was a divorcee, but she was not haunted by the dark part of her life.

(435) Mothers-out-law

Forty years ago, one mother-in-law was holding her beloved grandson. She was having a quarrel with her daughter-in-law. While many neighbours came out to watch, only one man came to help when the old lady was pushed close to a storm drain. I dare not imagine what would happen if the good samaritan did not stop the fight. The storm drain was wide and a good seven feet deep. There were sharp edges and hard cement sides.

Today, the mother-in-law had passed away many years. The daughter-in-law of yester year has aged. She in turn became a mother-in-law to her son's wife. Interestingly, the woman who detested her husband's mom moving in with her would today go to her son's house to care for the new grand son. Not only the young couple did not invite her and did not give her an allowance. She actually had to bring her own food every Sunday evening for the next five week days.

When the time comes for her to be sent away, would she then realize the pain she caused forty years ago to someone else had finally come around to settle on her?

(433) People of means

The other day Veron and I was having a discussion about young mothers. We happened to know two wives of medical doctors. Although both the men are not full fledged specialists yet, both possess great earning potential.

Dr. Aaron married Amelia while Dr. Denny married Denise. Amelia has two sons while Denise has two daughters. The interesting part is that both women are homemakers but do not have full time maids. Amelia places great emphasis on disciplining her sons. Denise seemed to be flummoxed by her changeling second child. It was a complete paradox: Denise's elder daughter is of such a sweet nature that the difficult second one seemed to be a total opposite. But I suppose we can't choose what characteristics for babies like we shop by mail order directory.

Veron made a very shrewd observation: Amelia gave up her profession to bring up her kids. She even found space and time to house her husband's grandpa when he was being treated in a nearby hospital. Her husband is a very blessed man as she is very independent, capable and she has his best interest at heart.

We can't say the same for Denise. After she delivered her elder girl, she actually started on her law degree. While number two the changeling was an infant, she had to chamber for a few months before being called to the bar. Why, we ask each other, does the wife of a doctor need to strive so hard to be qualified? Does she really need to practise for her personal satisfaction? After all, as long as her husband is working, she will be well supplied for the rest of her life. If she does not intend to practise, then all the hard work spent getting that piece of paper  displayed on the wall is not justified. Well, this is a classic case of an over killing in self actualization.

(432) BoneMan's Daughters by Ted Dekker

Ted Dekker is one of Elizabeth's favourite authors. I must have read his books before. But I don't remember any of his books before this one. Perhaps if I can see the covers of his earlier books, I would remember.

It is a tightly woven thriller that kept me glued to the pages. It is not the violence that I like, but rather the plot, the characters of the main players and the psychology that are fascinating. Books on serial killers are commonly available. This one, however, is unusual because it involved a repentant father. In real life, I find some men very short sighted. I do not mean myopia, which can easily be corrected by glasses. I have come across a few who married unsuitable women but stuck to their marriages stoically throughout their lives. Unfortunately, such noble sacrifice does not endear them to their spouses and children.

Ryan Evans, the father in this book, escaped from his mistake of marrying the wrong woman by consecutive combat deployments in overseas theatres. His wife, enjoys the ease of having an absentee husband who kept her and her adopted daughter in the lap of luxury. After a series of affairs in the fifteen years she spent bringing up her daughter, she finally came close to catching her illusive perfect mate: the district attorney who is a womanizer. If BoneMan did not murder them, perhaps the socialite and the philanderer might have made the perfect couple of the year, at least on poster.

The book ends with the repentant father, who almost gave his life in exchange for his adopted daughter's, reunited and reconciled with the apple of his eyes. Thanks to the executions in the dessert that brought out his latent love for his daughter.

(430) An extraordinary person

After I attended the funeral service, I went to a nearby clinic to use the rest room. It was a mission clinic started by a foreign doctor in the 1920s. At that time it was the only clinic in the vicinity.

The area prospered years later. Nobody took over at some point as there was no longer any need for a charity clinic. Lately a local called by God restarted it. He was a poor lad who some how managed to go abroad and worked his way through his medical course. There was no scholarship to be won at that time. He waitered, washed dishes, gardened, cleaned houses, shoveled snow, ... worked at any menial job so that he could continue to study.

After he returned home, he worked for the Government for many years. Later he worked overseas, earning twenty times what he used to in his home country. In the third part of his life, he restarted this ministry. I am surprised that the church who allowed him to use the premise did not contribute any money or medicine to his work. For the poor we shall always have with us, in any town. Globalization brought many foreign workers to the area. Once again, there is such a need for a doctor with a golden heart. I salute this couple, who in their golden years chose to follow Christ to serve the needy. It is very sad that in a big and prosperous town, no other doctor would step in to help when they go away for short breaks. They have no choice but to close the clinic. We indeed need more people like them in all parts of the world.

(428) Short Term Memory Loss

My cousin's father is turning eighty this year. He had been frail the past year. A few months after the last hospitalization, he regained his health. Lately my cousin found that he was beginning to be forgetful. What do we do when we are faced with an aged person's declining short term memory?

I can think of three possible reasons: 1. growing old - the inevitable decline 2. Senile dementia 3. Alzeimer's disease   Of the three, an early diagnosis and quick intervention of no. 3 could buy some time and limit the ravages of the disease by whatever current medical science could do.

But in this case we all know the root cause: the poor old man was left at home alone all working days with no one to talk to. His wife chose to run over to her son's to care for the only grand daughter from Monday to Friday. Perhaps the family has to address this issue and move either the apple of the grandparents' eyes to the old man or being equally creative, move the old man to be with his wife on weekdays.

To implement either solutions, problems would crop up. Would the parents be willing to commute daily? Is spending more on petrol an impossible thing? Or would it be unacceptable to leave the old couple's house untenanted on week nights? What are our priorities? If everyone agrees that it is important to keep grandpa's mind alert and sharp for as long as possible, then changes are inevitable.

Incidentally, this old man's biological elder sister's short term memory has deteriorated to the extent that within the period of eating lunch (about half an hour), she asked who brought the ten pieces of fried chicken four times.

(425) One old lady 3

Mary Po Po has a younger sister. Whenever I visited and found the former out, I had to leave a message with the latter. Prior to this, I had little contact with a recovered mental sufferer. Slowly, I found that she was normal but could be slighted easily. In other words, she had to be handled with the due care given to a spoilt twelve year old.

Apparently thirty years ago she was happily married to the only son of a merchant in a small town. Unfortunately, after fifteen years of marriage, she was barren. Her father and mother-in-law held the family purse string tightly. They decided that her husband should marry a younger woman to sire an heir. In those days, Chinese marriages were by tea ceremony (all relatives drink tea offered by both the bride and groom). Divorce was by a letter written by the husband or the father-in-law. In this case, the husband refused to sign. But he was not financially independent and was a coward. The mother-in-law threw the barren woman out of the house.

Ordinarily, a rejected barren woman would return to her parents' home. By the time this poor woman was driven from her marital home, her parents were dead. I seemed to remember that the father died from a stroke and the mother died of TB. Her few brothers were either too poor or too unkind to take her in. In the end she lived with a distant relative and lived on whatever little she could earn by finding odd jobs in an agricultural community. Years of neglect, out right rejection, sexual harassment from any lecherous man intent on evil and the hopelessness drove her to the asylum.

While all these fateful events were played out, Mary Po Po was facing her own struggles. Her husband died young. In order to survive, Mary Po Po boarded her two young children with her aunt and she worked as a cook for the German engineers in a hydroelectric project in a distant town. Apart from brief meetings and a little allowance that a poor widow could spare for her youngest sister, there was little else she could do.

It was a tragedy! Yet all these happened and there was no happy ending. The cowardly husband who could not stand up to his tyrants took two wives (subsequent to the kicking out of the first one), one after the other. The second wife run away. The third one stayed but all the days of his life, there was no children. I can't help but wonder if he was the sterile one. Three women's lives were ruined because of this one spineless  man and his parents' desire to have heirs. sad, isn't it?

(424) Funeral

My husband and I attended a funeral of his colleague's father. It was a grand occasion. There were two school bands in attendance. Money was donated to thirty two worthy organizations. The deceased spent thirty odd best years in his life teaching in a few Chinese medium elementary schools.

It was not a sad event. From the eulogy of the deceased's student who had a head of silver hair, we felt that it was a celebration of a disciplined and diligent life spent in educating the young and bettering our society through education. Years ago teachers were greatly respected. Teaching was a noble profession. Now everybody who is anybody has children who are medical doctors, lawyers, engineers and accountants. Very few parents and children would consider teaching as first choice. It is quite common to hear of parents who went to their children's schools to argue, quarrel or insult the teachers. In one or two cases things end up in the police station.

Therefore it is gratifying to know that in that particular family there are three generations in the teaching profession. There is yet hope in our schools if there are more families like that.

(423) First week away from home

I hitched a ride to a college town two hundred Km from where I live. My friend drove there to help her son move. It was a treat zooming along a highway with lots of greenery on both sides. Distant mountains were blue. I enjoyed the ride tremendously.

My friend's son was moving from East Shore to West Shore. We went to his old dormitory called Shanghai. I based myself downstairs in the public area. There were four rooms, each with attached bathrooms. The social area is not only small, there is only a tiny window next to  the main entrance. Students were expected to cook, eat, and socialize in that confine area ventilated with one tiny exaust  fan. No wonder once a person finds his footing, he no longer wants  to live in a barrack style hostel.
 
That was orientation week. One new student walked in while I was keeping an eye on possessions in transit. She smiled at me brightly and introduced herself. After telling me that she is a new student who moved in yesterday, and she was afraid and lonely in a strange building away from her few friends; she went to take a shower. Then she popped out like a genie and sat next to me. We chatted while watching TV. It was a silly teen program featuring really young teens in outrageous clothing and hairstyle. Meanwhile, my friend and her son was transferring stuff from room upstairs to my area, and when enough was moved down, then they were taken to the car outside.

As soon as everything was moved successfully to the new apartment, they came back for me. When my charming new girl was given a chance to meet a senior on the second floor, she jumped up to run upstairs. Then I realised that her wallet was on the dining table next to her chair. Well, she is barely seventeen, I told myself I cannot expect her to have everything together. But she better learn fast. Before we left, my friend's son took the wallet up to the chatting girls.

How would Elizabeth fare, when she arrives in USA or China? I pray that there will be angels to look after her.

(421) Honesty

The other day my husband was waiting in a mall for his client. A lady walked past and pointed to a piece of paper next to his feet. He picked it up. It was a twenty dollar bill. As he was thinking whether he dropped the note while pulling his wallet out, a shop assistant told him that the note belonged to an Indian man looking at cameras opposite the passage way.

My husband, who is as honest as the day is long, walked over and returned the money to the rightful owner. But I was deducting, why did not the shop assistant call out to the Indian man before my husband practically stood on the note? Perhaps he was waiting for my husband to walk off so he could pocket the money himself? Pardon me for being suspicious.

(420) Reverse Culture Shock 2

Now we look at a family of five who had lived on the highlands of New guinea for ten years. They are missionaries involved in language work. It was quite a shock moving from an "advance country" to a place that was then not too far from stone age amenities. But, it was harder to return to their home country. They could not get used to the hustle and bustle of city life. Traffic jams were foreign to them. The air pollution, the haze and the heat did not help.

While they were away, our country had advanced again. They saw other cars queued and then one by one was let passed the barrier. From their point of view, each driver placed his palm against a box. So they drove over and tried that. But the barrier did not lift. It was just as well that there was no other car behind them. Else they would not know what to do.

Later they learned that just about every driver owns a prepaid card that the box deducts payment from. They had a good laugh at themselves. They have spent ten years learning the ways of nature and a simple way of life. Meanwhile, their country had undergone ten years of development and westernization. When the time drew near to return to their adopted land, they were more than ready and happy to go.

(419) Reverse Culture Shock

I have a friend who went abroad a few years for further studies. After her graduation she immediately  married  her sweetheart in college. Since the groom came from a neighbouring country, she became a permanent resident there.

Twenty years later, the entire family relocated back to her home country for business reasons. It was of course a matter of adjustment for everyone concerned. But it was amusing to note that my friend was the one who found it the most difficult to settle. We would think that it would have been easier for her to get used to her birth country. After all, shouldn't it be whatever the gap is, our country would be part of us and the culture flows in our blood? Apparently not!

Here is an interesting incident to show you her shock. One day she went to the bank. As she was walking back to her car, the man in front of her dropped a wad of notes. Looking at the thickness and the denomination, she can tell at a glance that it was more than a thousand dollars. Before she could react, another man rushed past her and picked it up. He then turned to her and said in even tone,"Fifty - fifty?" She continued walking, speechless! I suppose her body language and facial expression denoted disgust! The dishonest man laughed and said " You are stupid!" and walked off quickly within seconds. She could not yell, she could not say any thing. Within minutes, both men were out of sight. 
 
When I met her the next morning, I could still see that she was upset and the shock might have lessen but it had not completely dissipated. She kept on saying "What would that first guy do after he found his loss?" Well, that's life, baby! He would learn a lesson that may be tough but necessary: one needs to take good care of one's hard earned cash. We cannot expect perfect honesty of our fellow man in a third world culture.

(418) Miscommunication

Long before the advent of e-mail and hand phones, young people made appointments to meet. Some times things went well, people turn up and had a good time together. Other times, things went wrong.

Consider:
1. Amy called Betty, they arranged to meet in McDonald's at Galleria(a shopping centre). Amy went on time and waited. Betty turned up ten minutes late and waited. Half an hour went by, Amy walked to a public phone to call Betty's home. But Betty left forty five minutes ago. So Amy thought Betty was detained somehow on the way, she waited for another twenty minutes and left in a huff. Betty, on the other hand, was impatient, she waited for fifteen minutes only. But because she was ten minutes late, she was upset that Amy stood her up. She left, angry.

What actually happened is that Amy waited at the McDonald's inside the shopping centre. Betty, on the other hand, went to the drive in outside of the shopping centre. They were waiting at different places. Both were at fault, they were vague about the place of meeting. Neither foresee the confusion. Such miscommunication will test the friendship. I wonder if they will arrange to meet each other again?

(416) Max on Life by Max Lucado

This is my first review of an e-book. This particular volume is a non-fiction. It is made up of the most frequently asked questions and bible based answers written in a clear, concise and readable manner.I think of this book as a reference in the library. It came twenty five years too late for me. Why? It would have been of tremendous help to me as a new believer so many years ago.

In the more than a hundred questions answered in the book, I see many that have been asked by my family members and friends who do not know Jesus yet. I noticed questions that back slidden folks may ask before returning to any church. I must say that Max gave excellent and balanced and complete answers that I would never be able to provide.

The only complaint I have is the presentation. It is very academic looking. There is no illustration or pictures, at least not the e-book. I find it very unpalatable: it looks exactly like the low price edition of ten year series of model answers for the Mathematics examination in Cambridge Board. Helpful? Yes. Attractive? No!

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

(415) Near death experience

When I was young, my father was a junior clerk in a soft drink factory. It was a promotion from being the lorry attendant when my mum married him. We were poor. We lived in my maternal grandma's wooden house. There was enough food to go round, but barely.

My mum would take in clothes to wash and iron. Though she could make very little, that furnished my grandma's and her allowance. All the children's new year clothes came from that side income. I still remember my mum's charcoal iron with sizzling ambers glowing red in the guts of that heavy cage. Mornings we find her boiling her customers' white garments. Late afternoons and nights she would be ironing.

Even we kids had to work. There is a neighbour who lived behind us that manufactured coconut sweets. The entire family would be wrapping the little cylindrical sweets in colourful transparent paper before and after lunch. It was interesting to note that although I was the youngest, it was my duty to go collect as well as deliver the sweets. My grandma used to call me the unofficial lawyer of the family. I must have been very outspoken and a pain in other people's neck!

One afternoon, the sweets allotted to us had been duly wrapped and delivered. It was nap time. No one could remember the details. What happened was our neighbour walked into our house, passed the sitting area and walked through the long corridor and saw my legs up in the air struggling above the water holder. I was moments away from drowning in less than six inches of water. There were many people in that house. Apart from my immediate family, we had a family who were our tenants. The man of that family would have been at work like my father, but the mother and her three children should have been around.

Suffice to say that my time had not come, I was rescued by that neighbour. Years later, she related to me that I was already blue in the face. From that episode, I could see that though I was young, I was independent. Perhaps it was that streak of being reluctant to ask for help that almost did me in. It was a very peaceful time in the village. No one locked their front door during the day. If my front door had been locked, you would not be reading my blog today. My parents would have buried their precious three year old two days after the drowning.

(412) Learning Difficulties 18

Someone in the conference brought out the topic of autism. Long ago I had a brush with a case of Asperger's Syndrome.

While Keziah was in the kindergarten, I befriended her teacher. Till today, we are still friends even though we seldom see each other. She tutors slow students. Off and on she called me up to pick my brain on certain mannerism her students exibit. I may not be able to give her an immediate answer all the time. But answers do come, some times through books and magazines, people, talking to fellow teachers and tutors or some times I dream of related things and as soon as I woke up, the solution came in a flash. God is good, he gives wisdom to those who ask for it.

This kindergarten teacher is one of a few I have met who continues to learn into her gray hair years. I love her for it. So when she kept pestering me about a boy,  I agreed to see him. After the initial assessment, I offered to accompany him to the public library half to one hour once a week Those days I haunted the children's library to source for teaching materials to educate my children. Therefore it was no hard ship babysitting him during my hours of book hunting.

It is true that he has good vocab, I discretely tested him through getting him to read out titles for me. But he refused to read. From day one I laid down the rules. He does not have to read, but he cannot leave my line of sight until he asked me for leave and told me how long it would take for him to return. He can talk to me softly but no yelling and disruptive behavior that would get him kicked out of the library. Throughout the few months I saw him, he behaved beautifully. I have absolutely no complaints. After a few weeks, he gave in. To pass time, he hunted for fun things to look at. Slowly I passed him things to read. He was caught with a puzzle book that is filled with pictures. That was the very first book he asked me for help to find out what author wanted him to do. Then came time to go home and he was reluctant to leave. After extracting serious promises from him at the dire warning of fines and the need to pay for a missing book, he was allowed to bring the book home on my membership card. After that, he was slowly but surely caught by the lure of books.

I think after about three to four months, instead of having a fidgety boy, I have a studious lamb quietly looking for books he likes or he could be intently reading. Then there was no longer any need to force him to go to the library with me. His parents were happy. His tutor was pleased. And I learned a few things about a high functioning autistic child.

(410) The Final Summit by Andy Andrews

I am grateful to Book Sneeze for supplying this book. While I would not run into the book shop to buy it, that is because it is not the normal type of books that attract me. I do learn many principles from it.

It is a very interesting concept to have many people from different times and historical periods to come together to find the one principle to save humanity. Boy, wouldn't I love to time travel, if that is possible! Imagine being able to meet my heroes and heroines from long ago!

Perhaps history is not normally my area of passion. I find the author's ability to bring out historical characters and have them talk convincingly precious. And it was surprising that after all the hoo ha, the answer is really deceivingly simple. No, I didn't think of it before I came to the last few pages. Isn't it odd that the long sought after solutions that elude capture are normally so common place and "easy"! Intrigued? Go and buy the book and find out for yourself.

Happy reading!

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

(408) Fried noodle seller

The other day I went to buy food for my mum and niece. The latter likes the fried noodle in my mum's favourite restaurant. Sad to say, he wasn't there. Since I was in a chatty mood that morning, I asked when he would come back

Apparently the answer is never. He has quarreled with every other hawker in the shop. In his previous stint, the shop owners had asked him to leave. In this case, the lady boss, who is a very pragmatic and hard working Foo Chow person, did not. This quarrelsome man left of his own accord.

I must have purchased food from his wife on and off for half a year or so. I was not aware that he had had bad relationships with his colleagues. Neither did I guess that he abused his wife physically and verbally. On the contrary I used to think the wife has a sweet and submissive nature. I did not notice bruises as in other cases of spousal abuse.

Obviously his departing is good riddance to everyone concern in the coffee shop. But I wonder if the poor wife would be worse off as the only means of livelihood for the moment is cut off. I hope he can find another place to set up business. After all, he could produce the best fried rice noodle this side of town.

(407) Upbringing 48

Quite some time back Elizabeth went through a detox. There after she faithfully takes the food supplements she chose. I do see some improvement in her milk allergies. But temperature change as a trigger became more noticeable. As she has only started all these in October last year, I can attribute it to healing crisis.

In the conference I heard from my friend who had been having sinus problems all her life some tips. I'll just repeat what I heard since I noticed there was a search on dyslexia and antihistamine. This friend of mine is in her fifties. She came from a family of teacher parents. As a child, in the morning she went to Chinese school and in the afternoon she went to an English school. She was an athlete. She started having sinus problem since she was young. It was traced to dust allergy and the root cause was dirty mosquito netting in her childhood home.

In her forties, her sinus became so bad that she was on antibiotics more often than she liked. Three days after one strong course, she would break out in fever again. Having no other choice, she went through an operation that she dreaded. It was successful. For the first time she could remember, she could breathe properly and her brain received sufficient oxygen. Right after the recovery period she noticed she could feel fresh with eight hours of sleep at night. It used to be she needed extra sleep but still felt run down and tired beyond words.

She recommended her Dr. to her boss and he found that medication alone prescribed by the ENT specialist took care of his problem. I decided that when Elizabeth leaves her law firm, I will take her to visit this competent and honest doctor. It is not normal for a young girl to need many hours of sleep and yet does not feel refreshed later.

(406) Being "disconnected"

If you have taken the boring task of reading my early articles, you might have come across one that stated that I dislike receiving distress calls, especially late at night. As a result, there is no land line in my house. I don't own a hand phone either. When there is an extra hand phone in the house, I may check it once a day or once in two days. It is amazing that I still have friends at all in this metropolitan city or anywhere at all in the world.

If you think I am antisocial, that is inaccurate! I am merely restricting access to my private time. I have some very dear friends who pull out their hair over my lack of connectivity. But life's like that. If a person desires my friendship, she has to put up with this eccentric way. Most chose to pass me by, which is precisely what I want: more time to read, to write and to reflect on what I see around me. 

Come to think of it, I have only received two such calls in my life. But it was bad enough. No more! Through one such call, I enabled a pair of students to reconnect and continue their "underground" love beyond their objecting parents. Happy to say, nine years after that fateful call, they brought their first child to visit me. I did not know they got married.

The second call resulted in a marriage saved. but sad to say, it was hardly a happy marriage. And after I saw the result of answering that call, I gradually took steps to dissociate myself from a phone line. A bit drastic, isn't it? But there is nothing wrong in other people having three hand phones in their pocketbook. A phone in my hand is not exactly a safe thing.

Now I know why all those years ago I took such a step.
1. I used to love talking on the phone, can you visualise a teen age me spending hours on the phone listening to folks so that I could analyse what they say.
2. I can not stop myself from "helping" people if they ask for my advice in a direct question. Yes, I am a busybody, unfortunately.
3. A good friend paid and transported me to a weekend course where I distinctly realized I am only a listener but not counselor material.
4. People do tell me all kinds of things. You won't believe what was said to me in airports and places where it was unlikely I would ever meet the person again. Now I tend to read or travel with companions.

It is very interesting to observe how  people react when they first hear of the fact that I have neither land line nor hand phone.

(402) One old lady

When I was residing in Silver City, I used to walk to the morning market in Lion's Garden. To get to that market, we homemakers had to cross a busy road. What I would normally do was to wait with others and cross as a group. There I noticed an old lady who would not dare to cross. One morning I greeted her and asked if I could cross with her. She said yes. As soon as the group grew to four women, I held  the old lady's arm and walked across the road with her.

There after I met her often and we became friends. My children and I referred to her as Mary Po Po because she lived near the Hospital called Mary (the mother of  Jesus). Po Po means grand mother. That begun  years of friendship. At that time I lived in a big house with little furniture. She made a note of that and started to look for free  furniture for my family. I saw it as she was trying to help us. Actually we just relocated from a city 200 miles away and did not bring but half our furniture with us. So on most days she would drop by and give me a mango from her tree or some small item her neighbour gave her. Then I would give her wild boar meat that my care group leader gave me. You see, our leader hunts wild boar as a hobby.

After a while I realised that she was living on one hundred dollars with her mentally unbalanced sister. Her daughter bought the little hut she was staying in and took care of water, electricity as well as phone bills. No wonder she planted all kinds of vegetables in her little garden. She was really sharing her two mites with me, a virtual stranger from the big city. I felt very bad as at that time my husband had a well-paying job. We may live frugally but we were not poor at that point. While I could not refuse her gifts, I contrived very hard to repay her one way or another. To me, I may give her a pound or two of lean wild boar meat once a week. It actually did not cost me a cent. But she placed great value on the meat as she could hardly afford to buy meat on $3 a day to feed two adults. Hence she came often to give me fresh chives, spring onions from her garden, she gave us her first papaya from her new tree too. When she saved up enough money to cook a desert called yam cake, we would be given a big piece. I find that try as I might, I cannot out give her. she was thoughtful, caring and most generous. The interesting part is that she was living way below the poverty line. In spite of  that, she was happy and contented with her lot in life. And every second of the day she was looking out at how she could be of help to her friends and neighbours.

Come to think of it, up to the time that I met her; I have never known anybody like her. Nor have I found anyone else like her since. It was six years since I moved away from Silver City, I seldom thought of her. All I know is that she moved in with her daughter after her son-in-law passed away. The next trip I make back to Silver City, I should look her up. Wonder if she is still alive?

(401) Zelda's testing

Remember Zelda? she went through a few months of testing. Funds dried up. Deals just came in when bills were almost overdue. The car broke down. She had to borrow money to pay for her son's college tuition. Some days she was so low in funds that she literally survived on the odds and ends left in her fridge. Since she did not mind eating left overs, I was able to supply her with a meal or two when she was really in need. But I want to emphasize that she never went hungry. Seeing and praying with her very often, I can testify that she had to depend on God. Throughout the past few months, she did not have anything more than six hundred dollars cash at any one day after her one-month mission trip to London. Anyone may become insecure with these circumstances but she chooses to count herself fortunate enough to be sifted like wheat flour. If she cannot learn to depend solely on God at home, how can she survive by faith in a foreign land?

On Sunday, she received a cheque ear-marked for her proposed six month stint.( Even though she planned on 3 months, the mission organisation strongly advised one year, so they compromised on six months.) The cheque brought not a big amount, but enough to be seed money for part of the air-ticket she asked God about. She remembered I prayed for her last week about the release of funds from her contacts, friends, clients or church members. I thought about it and nailed it down to last Thursday night. I actually asked specifically that the holy spirit will speak to these people of means. On Friday, the kind donor was finalising her accounts and decided to give the amount she set aside to Zelda. Zelda and I knew that this was a direct answer to our prayers. It means the second trip is on. We praise God for the prompt confirmation.

Just a note of update for those readers who are wondering about the foreign student Zelda and friend brought to Life Group and Church. He proved to be a consistent hard worker. His boss is very happy to schedule his working hours around his classes. He went to meetings faithfully and is grateful to God for enabling him to study here on limited means. I personally think that it is no shame that he is ambitious enough to want to better his future away from his war torn country. Of course those who would rather see him go back to his home country could pray about that. It is not unusual to find some nationalists feeling threaten by potential immigrants whom others term as economic refugees.

Read also (749), (361), (383), (487), (520), (994), and (9).

(400) Who are we?

One elderly lady told me that she does not refer to herself as a Christian. She much rather calls herself a follower of Christ. Immediately I saw what she meant. Many people have something against Christians in general because of what one Christian in particular did. For those who were hurt or taken advantage of, the word "Christian" rankles. They see all Christians as hypocrites.

From experience, there are two types of churches. One is the traditional, well established church that holds millions of dollars in Fix Deposits. The other is a church that clears all money collected at Dec 31. Surplus funds is given away to worthy causes. While the latter type acts in a more biblical manner, there is still some short comings. I have spent more than ten years worshiping in the former type of church. Now I worship in the latter type. I sense that while I was in the former church, the leadership was always on the look out for people willing to serve. The church does not lack funds. Now, money seems paramount. Earlier, the fact that I was a homemaker did not seem to count against me. Now, I sense those who earn good money, thus able to tithe more, definitely possess better standing in church. I know that in Jesus' eyes, he sees me as equal to all others. But, I can't expect the same from pastors and leaders.

Another thought is: the church in China (they do not spend money on church buildings) ought to be able to do mighty things. For I see the shop lot churches in newer areas continually scrounge around to raise fund to buy more shop lots to expand. And the sad part is that such expensive buildings were only used at most three times a week: Sunday Celebrations, Saturday Youth meetings and week night prayer meetings (each lasting no more than 4 hours).

(399) Good deeds?

A speaker in church happened to mention about symptoms people displayed before disappearing from church. One of them is not coming to Sunday Celebration. As my buddy missed two Celebrations, I took the trouble to find out why. Normally I would take it that anyone could be unwell for one Sunday and went away out of town the following Sunday.

Apparently he was "flying below the radar". A few months ago, he met a family walking in his housing area to the bus stop. Since he recognised them as members of our church, he stopped to pick them up. After finding that they did not own a car, he offered to take them home as well. And he regularly provided transportation for this family. 

All went well until the man of the family borrowed a hundred dollars from the kind driver. The way my friend saw it, a hundred is a small amount. Yet he was becoming wary. After all, he has a job and he has his commitments. So does the man of this family. It is not how much we earn but how we learn to live within our means. In a way, my friend does not even expect repayment. But he is concerned about possible future requests.

I view the whole thing differently. If someone approaches me for even fifty dollars, I would point out nicely that I only have about sixty dollars in my wallet on a weekly basis. If I were to loan it to anyone, my family would end up eating white rice and tuna fish every day. (I happen to have more than ten cans of tuna fish in my larder.) That is why I would not loan money to anyone. Not because I am unwilling, but because I don't have extra. Moreover, what I fear most are those who borrow small amounts and return them promptly. After building up a good and steady track record of borrowing and returning, one fine day that person may ask for a big amount and then disappear. The best course of action would be to refer such requests to the church committee. Should the reason for such a request be valid, then the church would be able to help.

It is sad that an attempt to be helpful backfires.

(397) Recycling 6

After I moved into my current house,  I acquired a few new neighbours. One of them is a single mother. After her son shifted out to live on campus, she wanted to get rid of a chest of drawers. I took a look and told her not to leave it out exposed to the weather. I gathered our sons to move it to my house. Just around that time someone gave Elizabeth a whole bunch of winter clothing. I cleaned up the chest of drawers, let it dry and then stored those extra clothes.

About two months ago, Elizabeth received an acceptance from an American university. I took a big suitcase from another neighbour and transferred all those clothes into it. Actually we still had not raised the funds for enrolling her yet, but by faith we are getting ready for her to go.

When I was sending a returning missionary home, she mentioned she needed to look for furniture to move into a bigger room. My antennae came out and I asked her what she was looking for. She was deciding between a wardrobe or a chest of drawers. Straight away I offered my chest of drawers. Two weeks later she came to take a look. It was made of good quality wood. Not like those in the furniture shop that was made of ply wood. Since she did not mind the chipped black paint, she decided to take it rather than shell out $150 for the modern flimsy item.

Now we await a volunteer van driver so that we can transport the drawers to its new home. It felt good to be able to rescue a good piece of furniture from being thrown away. I have enjoyed using it for almost three years now. If our missionary friend is a handy woman, she may even repaint it and give it a new appearance as well as a new lease of life.

(396) Hurtful comments

A friend was relating how she was hurt by discriminating comments by her professor throughout her five years of college. While she had dealt with it, had talked with the prof before graduation and forgiven him. I could still see the lines of hurt on her face throughout the time she was relating the experience. Normally she is a sweet, joyful and cheerful person.

You see, she came from a minority tribe in northern Borneo. She was probably the very first person from her tribe to venture to the capital city to further her studies. Of course her English speaking ability at the point of college entrance was much lower than those city denizens who have far more opportunities to listen, speak and use English. While she came from a rural area with no running water and electricity, she did not live in tree houses. To say so in a sarcastic manner in front of all the students in a lecture hall would hurt a young girl's feelings. She may be disadvantaged by her origin and back ground, but she was not part of a savage, man-eating stone-age tribe.

 Looking back, I was caught in that kind of situation  within the first few weeks of arriving in USA. A snooty poor little rich girl asked me pointedly in front a crowd in a Dormitory Social if I lived on top of trees in my home country. I was extremely blessed that my mature student friend from Africa came to my defence. Together we painted an exotic, admirable picture of living in a jungle. It was an adventure, a good life that they would never have the opportunity to experience. Until my graduation, one of the girls who heard that creative exposition still was amazed that a former jungle girl like me could be elected to become a Phi Beta Kappa. By then, I have accepted the fact that most Americans I met have little geographical knowledge outside of  North America and Europe. Since we were friends and enjoyed each others' company, and she never asked me about my home country, I saw no reason to educate her about the Far East.

(395) Hearts of gold

My friends and I got together. As our conversation drifted from one topic to another, someone asked if the rest of us know the most highly priced residence in Singapore? No one did. We could not even begin to guess how much it costs!

Apparently it was a staggering S$ 240,000,000. It was the top floor of a building on Orchard Road. Now who would live in this golden house? The answer is a rich Hong Kong businessman. The richest person present commented that he should have bought a modest property which costs S$40 millions and give away the S$200 millions to the victims of the Tsunami in Sendai.

That sets me thinking: why should he? After all, the money rightfully belongs to him. He probably worked very hard and long to accumulate serious wealth like that. And perhaps he lost his parents to the massacre in the rape of Nanking. So why should he care if the Japanese suffer or are destitute?

It was interesting that this morning I read an article that featured a financial consultant called Ming Wong from Hong Kong who has a high net worth client who inherited her wealth from her father (who was a successful HK real estate tycoon). This lady desires to create a portfolio that would generate both financial returns and achieve social and/or environmental impact. She also determined to establish the best way to give away her wealth rather than just leave it all for her children.

In the same article, I read about a social enterprise in HK called Social Investors' Club. The panel of ten founding members include: 5 bankers and investment managers, three social entrepreneurs, a university professor and a retiring engineer from the government.

The above-mentioned club's first investment of HK$200,000 is in Dr. Grooming Pet Services. The latter is founded by a former drug offender with the aim to improve the recidivism rate for rehabilitated drug offenders by providing job training and empowering them with responsibilities.

We need more people like my rich friend, the rich lady in Hong Kong who cares, and folks who do not just talk but start doing something like the members of the Social Investors' Club. Since I do not have wealth, neither do I have the know how to start social enterprise; I use my writing to convey such inspiring ideas to everyone who reads my  blog. Thank you for reading.

(393) Learning Difficulties 17

If you have been following my upbringing series, you would know that Elizabeth, my daughter, is a dyslexic who has accepted all that the good Lord had programmed into her wiring. She is confident, joyous, energetic and ready to take on the world.

Just the other day, she created a certain "difficult situation" in her office. At the end of listening to the long and short of it, I realise the root cause is how she classified time. Well, sit tight, relax and let me give you a small glimpse of the land of the learning disabled.

One client, let us call him Mr. Lee, made an appointment to see Elizabeth at 4:00pm. She located his file, place it near her working space. Four o'clock came and went. Since it was not an urgent case, it would be quite alright for him to come the next day.

At five o'clock, Mr. Tee (another client, totally unrelated to Mr. Lee) called and requested that Elizabeth not leave yet. He proposes to come in fifteen minutes' time to settle his payment. Elizabeth took out Mr. Tee's file and placed it on top of Mr. Lee's file, then she went on with her administrative tasks.

At five fifteen or thereabouts, a male customer came to present a cheque for the accounts staff to frame. It was Elizabeth's fault for assuming him to be Mr. Tee. The cheque was imprinted with the amount Mr. Tee owed, let's say it was $4,000. There the mistake arose, the amount should be $40,000 as it turned out that the cheque bearer was Mr. Lee.

Here, you may be laughing that it was a twist of fate over the family names that sounded almost the same. But the crux of the matter was that Elizabeth did not even consider the possibility of Mr. Lee turning up. For whatever reason, she consider afternoon to be 2pm - 5 pm. By five o'clock she mentally clicked in that Mr. Lee would come the next morning, since he did not call. The fact that he would turn up late never occur to her.

By the mercy of God, Mr. Lee was very gracious about the whole matter. He regretted that he only brought one cheque. So it was arranged that the office boy would go to his house to collect the cheque the following day.

Mr. Tee did not come. Not at 5:15pm or the following day. But he sure threw a spanner into the works and gave Elizabeth a tough time. I suppose these things are sent to to test us. From this experience, Elizabeth learns quite a few lessons.

Well, you may ask me: why is it that I could understand Elizabeth? No, I did not have this difficulty myself. But I have seen it more than once in my college dorm. Let us wind back time to my early twenties when I found my floor mate weeping on her bed at six o'clock around dinner time. Since I care for her, I sat down with a growling stomach to find out the head and tail of this crisis.

It was her birthday. Her boy friend promised to call her in the afternoon. She had been waiting for the call in her room since after lunch. She even kept the room door open so she could hear the hall telephone. (This was long before the e-mail and the hand phone.) That explained why I could see and hear her sobbing her heart out. To me, six pm is still afternoon. But to her it was classified as evening. As we were talking about how the time of the day was segmented, the phone rang. All was well. Her beloved kept his promise after all, albeit a little late. So the little busy body foreigner went for her dinner.

(392) Time capsule

While going through some papers from my shelves, I came across a letter I wrote but did not send six years ago. That was around the time I had to pack up the entire house to relocate back to my home town. No, no one expected to receive that letter. One night I was reading some prayer update from missionaries from a small island in Indonesia, I presume the next morning I wrote the letter at the spur of the moment. Some how it was packed and escaped detection for almost eighty months. The same missionaries have moved on to the island of Borneo by now. It would not make any sense to send the letter now.

Somewhere in the letter I was relating my experience in recycling for mission. That particular night a well-to-do couple brought 45 beer cans and seven engine oil containers as well as a few huge collapsed carton boxes. Andy went to service his vintage Mercedes in the morning. As he remembered to collect his own empty engine oil container, he asked the mechanic if he could collect those containers he saw thrown right out side of the workshop. The mechanic replied in the affirmative. After he left the workshop he took his wife Dottie shopping. This time Dottie spotted a few carton boxes that looked clean. In order to fit those boxes into his boot, Andrew collapsed and folded them. After a light lunch, they went for a seven mile up and down hill run with the Harriers. Then the big group gathered to eat a well-earned dinner at the club. As usual, the President brought out cartons of beer. Andy and Dottie collected many beer cans.

In the letter I recorded that I started to collect recyclable materials in my neighbourhood starting from April 18 that year. I would walk with my children in the evening and pick up aluminium cans and mineral water bottles. After that I tell everyone who would listen what I was doing. Then quite a few families would collect stuff and deliver to my door step. Looking back, it was amazing that from April 18 to Dec 31 we managed to raise more than a thousand dollars for mission in a South East Asian country.

The next thought was : a few are called to go spread the good news in a foreign country, most are called to pray and to support financially those who went. Since I was a home-maker and did not have any monthly pay cheque, for that period of my life I found a creative way to raise fund. Now I could no longer do that as I live in a pigeon hole. Six years ago I lived in a five bedroom house with more land than build up area.

For a long time I haven't thought about the fellow recyclers I met in the recycling shop. Some of them are homeless. Others were retired and poor. A few went round on motor-cycles with two big bags precariously balanced on front and back. Many were on bicycles. A few walked and dragged bags behind them. According to the owner of the shop, most of the old men depend on the money they scavenged for their daily meals. That was why the recycling shop opened seven days a week. The only day they closed is on Chinese New Year first day. The Indonesian maid told me that her boss would hand out "Ang Pows" (Red packets with a small sum of cash inside) to those who come on the eve. That way, the really poor ones would not go hungry the next day.

These men were of all three races - Malay, Chinese and Indians. They are definitely an unreached group. The Malays and the Indians were surprisingly jovial and did not resent me going to recycle in my tiny borrowed car. The Chinese men would not even look me in the eyes, let alone to joke and laugh with me. That place was not a rural and poor area. It was just 200 Km from the nation's capitol. Until I frequent that shop to sell my collected stuff, I did not know there was such a big band of the aged that live on the rim of hunger. Jesus loves them, yes, each one of them, as much as you and me. Yet who can bridge the socio-economic gap to go and tell them that?

(391) Agony

In the beginning of the year, I prayed for a temporary job. In my heart, I thought Elizabeth and I would get temporary posts at an advertising company. She applied for data entry and I was thinking of consumer interviewing. It was interesting, the timing was out. When she was available, there was no vacancy. Just 28 days after that, an offer came. By then she had settled in her new job, quite reluctant to leave. Even though there was one more vacancy in her current firm, I did not dare to get involve in form pushing and administration. From past experience, I know that this is my weakest area.

About a month after Elizabeth started at her stressful job, I went for my blood test before my medical appointment. After the blood test, I decided to visit a non-denominational mission organization. As soon as I rang the bell and the door was opened, I could see the surprise on the Director's face. Apparently, he was on the phone leaving a message with my daughter for me to call him. And I just materialized in front of him a few moments later. Sure, I thought, it was more than chance that ordained my turning up out of the blue. Since the project was within my capability, I agreed without much hesitation.

Less than a month later, the above-mentioned project has not started yet. A book came into my hands, the author was looking for a translator. I was surprised, few people knew I could translate. Since I have never translated professionally, I did not have any track record. After asking a few questions, I realized why it was difficult for the author to find a translator. First the translator has to be a Christian, next he/she has to believe in end time prophecy.That combination of requirements obviously reduced the number of candidates in the playing fields drastically.

Here comes the difficulty: Should I take it? How much should I charge? How long should  I ask for? Shouldn't I just turn it down and save myself lots of headache?

Then I thought, such an opportunity comes perhaps only once in a life time. I decided to commit it to God, ask for a longer period and promise that if I could do the job within a shorter period, I would hand in earlier. And prayerfully I would submit a higher price, if it is not mine, then the job would go to another person.

(390) Pain 17

It was a gathering for old friends. Some of us have been in the same class at different years practically since seven years old. There was an air of ease, not much need for sieving our thoughts, checking our words before any could escape out of our mouths. If anyone gets too frank and says something down right tactless,someone would rap her hard, we would laugh and all would be forgotten in the atmosphere of "Well! She has been like that all these years, what else do you expect?".

Most of us have college going children, one even has a grandson. The late bloomer who got married just celebrated her tenth anniversary. While listening to her talk about how grateful she was that her husband has a solid job, and whine that he is too inflexible to change job after forty five; we chuckled and concluded that the honeymoon is finally over. Each of us look at another with sheepish eyes, we all know our spouses' shortcomings and must have said something at sometime or other. Then all eyes rested on our "sweetie", who still has smiles that melt hearts and retains her even temper. Not a word we can wrestle out of her. She had come, sat and listened, but never said anything negative about her marriage or spouse or children. None of us are deceived that everything is picture perfect. Yet we respect her choice to keep things in her heart.

This past meal, our usual facilitator looked haggard and even a little unkempt. My honorary chauffeur mentioned that she had never seen her like that. Well, off and on, I have caught her looking not herself. Usually it would not last long, a few weeks at the maximum. I have attributed the lack of grooming to feeling down, not in top physical form, depression, and lately, being reclusive to have time and space to think through whatever that bothers her.

This time, my theory is like this: both "sweetie" and our de facto facilitator married their very first date as well as boy friend. Looking back, I don't think either of them had ever dated another chap. Perhaps, as a result, they could not visualize lives without their important men. Their great love for their special men dictates that they give and give. While their men succeed and made lots of money and became men  of status, they were busy both at house-keeping and keeping up with the changes in their spouses. Now, that is not easy for them if they happened to have married men with roving eyes.

In comparison, my beautiful chauffeur and I had experienced broken relationships. We married relatively later in life. We were no longer starry-eyed as brides. Here is where earlier set backs in our youth work to our advantage in later years. We are perhaps more realistic, more skilled at gentle negotiation. Maybe have a better gut feel in when to give in and when to persist to make our stand in things that really matter to us. No, we don't have model marriages, but are glad to note that our husbands do not hold all the cards in their hands.

(388) High demand children

Yesterday afternoon Elizabeth and I went visiting. Our hostess' only child was very wide awake and active throughout the afternoon. Someone asked if the child still takes afternoon naps. The answer, interestingly, turned out to be yes for weekdays, and no for weekends.

My thoughts straight away ran to a scene: there I was after a marathon three day weekend entertaining my son. We had been everywhere and done everything he liked to do. He was still running on high octane fuel and was tickling me at eleven pm. I just nod off while tucking him in. Thank God I could send him to his nanny at seven the next morning and I could choose to run home to nap for two hours. First class wasn't on until eleven am on Monday mornings.

That energy draining son of mine would proceed to his nanny's and sleep throughout the day except for meals and bath time. That kind of thing would definitely happen on Mondays. Perhaps for Tuesdays if Friday was a public holiday. On Monday night he would come home bright and ready to play. Praise God that children do eventually grow up. It was difficult to have such a child to care for at nights even for a part-time teacher like me. I was extremely fortunate that none of my other children were like my eldest son.

(387) Neighbourhood food providers

Very near where I reside, there are four sellers of coconut rice. When I first moved here six years ago, there was only one stall set up opposite the school. This one is run by a middle-age couple of Malay descent. Whenever I got tired of eating bread, I would choose to eat a packet of coconut rice. Of course it contains, among many things one can choose to add, two pieces of cucumber, a few fried peanuts, some fried anchovies, a tablespoonful of hot chilly paste and a quarter of a hard boiled egg.

Then an Indonesian lady opened a tiny eating shop and offered coconut rice, fried rice, fried bee hoon (rice noodle) and fried mee(wheat yellow noodle). Without thinking, I tried buying food from the new stall and found that I quite like the way she fried her bee hoon. I guess I made  the mistake of first buying the bee hoon and then walked to the original  stall to get coconut rice for my children. Lo and behold, the Malay couple gave me a no nonsense talking to for buying from the "dirty" and "unworthy" Indon. I was shocked! Even though I did not argue with any of their recriminations, there and then I resolved never to buy from them again.

So you can imagine my glee when another Malay lady set up a new stall at the end of the block! Once again I have the option of choosing to buy from either stall that I decided to patronize. Imagine my surprise when this new seller told me that she believe in free enterprise. She said that it is God who provides her daily needs. She welcome other sellers, whether Malay, Indonesian, Bangladeshy, or Indian to set up stalls, after all, a congregation of stalls would attract customers from far and wide. Only those who consistently provide tasty and clean food at reasonable prices can survive long term. Oh my, how refreshing a thought!

Then recently  the struggling Indian restaurant was sold and the new owner decided to join in the melee and become the fourth supplier of coconut rice. Now my joy is complete! Some days I choose to buy a packet from the Malay lady because I like the spicy chilly paste. Other times when I am in a hurry to send my offspring to work I quickly grabbed a pre-packed coconut rice from the Indian restaurant and run. And the wonderful thing is that in these days of soaring food prices, I can still get such delicious breakfast for one dollar at three of the four stalls. (the grumpy couple sells at one twenty, I heard.)

(386) Upbringing 47

It didn't seem like a long time but I have been away for more than a month.

Today Elizabeth went to a city school and sat for a personality test. That test is supposed to tell admission officials whether the options she applied for suit her. Out of all the government universities, this island university is the only one which requires her to sit for a test.

From early February I was both happy and sad over her offer of a place in a university in USA. I was happy that she was accepted. It was a wonderful feeling to look at the grant offered. After converting to our currency, it is a whopping seventy odd thousand dollars. After a few days of following the exchange rates, I realize there is no way we could send her unless God send some more aid or cash. And the sadness leads to feeling down ...

Hence we are in the midst of applying to yet another university. This time we are applying to one in China. Since Elizabeth is busy clerking at a law firm, her father and I chipped in to help her. I would gather all the information and fill in the forms. Elizabeth would vet through all the entries, then her father would key in the online application pending  her final check before sending. Meanwhile, our daughter is learning how to talk to clients, both on the phone as well as by email. She is also picking up the legal speak in terms of selling and buying properties. It is a very responsible position, highly pressured but very lowly paid. It is a temporary position, her boss told her the monthly pay is five hundred dollars. Miracle of miracles, when the pay cheque came, it was six hundred. As long as she is able to learn new skills, the pay does not matter. Yet how are we going to find the money we are short of ? Perhaps this new university would really offer her a full scholarship, that would be a wonderful solution.