Surprise

        Nothing could be compared to the surprise and changes that Echo brought to my life. 

        I like biology and did quite amount of anatomy before going to college. Strangely, I could calmly handle live specimens in labs but was afraid of any animals in wild. A frog or a mouse crossing street would make me scream, a cat or a dog approaching me would make me jump. I hate to be licked -- my brother knew it well and used this as his weapon when he was little -- so owning a pet was absolutely not an option for me. 

        The rest of my family members all love dogs. Dog is part of my husband's American dream but he didn't push it because of my hesitance. My son is a natural dog lover, not only because he was born in a dog year, but also magically has had a special bonding to all kinds of dogs since he was a baby. My daughter was the one who kept on begging for a dog and actually did a great amount of research. Once a while she showed me some cute dog pictures, taught me some dog knowledge, and told me the traits of different breeds. She asked me what's my concern and promised that she would look for a dog breed that cover all of my concerns and meet our family's criteria -- middle-sized, active and healthy, capable to hike, low odor, does not shed, drool or bite too much... 

        Alivia is fond of all the dogs in our friends family, especially those who went out hiking with us, Alisha and Tobi. She had so much patience to take care of the dogs during the trip. She was excited whenever receiving dog pictures or videos from my brother, sister and other friends. From her eyes, I saw not only eagerness of companion, but tenderness and love grown in a young heart. Finally I compromised with only one condition -- don't let the dog get too close to me.  

       Based on her studies, Alivia decided to adopt a border collie, a cute looking, energetic and smart middle-sized dog. Border collie is not a very popular breed so it took several months to finally find one near us. The day to meet her was a big day. Without hesitating, we decided to bring her home as this adorable little one immediately melted our heart. Ironically that day was my birthday. Giving a dog to a person who rejects dogs as her birthday gift, what a surprise! We decided to call her Echo. The name was from a website that suggests dog names, but my daughter said, "maybe this is a sign, maybe this is a start full of hope, maybe this is a secret echo coming from bottom of your heart, eventually maybe you would be the person who loves Echo the most." 

       Echo didn't make Alivia disappointed. A month later, Echo became the only animal ever licked my hands; two months later, I could let her sit on my lap and hug her; three months later we could take a walk together -- yes, only two of us... Pet her, feed her, shower her, comb her, train her, hug her, kiss her, even talk to her... In return, she follows me, listens to me, trusts me, and comforts me. I could almost say I turned to be her favorite person! Her watery and innocent big eyes, her half floppy half erected ears, her lithe and agile movement, her head tilting, tail wagging, belly-up pleasing, her simple but genuine love totally wins my heart. 

        For my whole life, I never thought about owning a dog, not talking about being transformed by a dog. While this surprisingly happened. This little playful spirit opens a different world to me, and gave me a special feeling of joy. She can easily dissolve my frown, lift the corner of my mouth, and ease my mind. She injects joys and vitality in our daily life, she adds so much fun in our outdoor trips, she stirs my parental instinct again and made me completely accept her. For so many time when I look at her, I cannot believe the magic changes she has brought to me and feel so lucky to have her. Pandemic is a human tragedy, which isolated people and may permanently change the world. My world has been changed too, by this surprising and special gift. 

        "To love gives life purpose; to be loved gives life meaning". Now I have one more family member to love and to be loved! Echo is truly an echo from bottom of my heart. 

Pulled-Pork 肉夹馍

新学的 Instant Pot 版 pulled-pork，超高效，一下子炖出满满一锅，接下来可以变着花样吃好几顿。

锅底铺一层德国酸菜 Kraut，码进去7-8 lb pork butt

加调料：salt 1tbs，black pepper 1tbs，garlic powder 1tbs，garlic salt 1tbs，BBQ sauce 2cup, Paprika 3tbs （optional: liquid smoke ⅓ cup, chicken broth or water ½ cup）

充分混合拌匀，炖肉档，高压1h15m

自然冷却散气后，肉从汤汁里捞出，用叉子分成丝状，顾名思义 pulled-pork

加少许汤汁浸泡入味，加喜欢的辣椒酱、花椒油、芹菜丁、甜椒丁、香菜碎，就成了肉夹馍或者卷饼的灵魂。

馍可以自己烙，但是用 English Muffin 或者荷叶夹已经足够好。偶然试着用 baguette 或者 artisan roll 做底也相当好吃。

饼可以自己做春饼，但是用 tortilla 也不错，特别是Costco Tortilla Land uncooked 那一种，和 Sonoma La Tortilla Factory 的，非常劲道。

另外，用炖肉的汤汁和 spaghetti 做一锅酸菜烂糊面，也会让小朋友非常满足！关键的关键是要把煮了半熟的面放到汤汁里继续小火焖一会儿，让面吸足味道，把肉丝青椒丝盖在上面，回味无穷！

   

English Muffin + Kraut + pull pork + cheese 
- 320F bake for 2min, +cilantro 

Spring Messengers

        Magnolia is a type of popular plant in California. On one of the nearby streets in our  neighborhood, almost every house has a magnolia tree in its front yard. In early spring, they are the first blooming trees carrying either white or purple flowers. Every time when I saw them, it would wake up my sensation to spring and bring my mind back to my elementary school years.

        In the early memory of my childhood, the blooming of winter jasmine is the first whisper of spring.  Spring sneaks in in a very quiet way in Shanghai. When most of trees still have bare brunches without any budding sign, the slight poke from those small light yellow flowers can always bring me a warm and intoxicating smile. I thought spring always sends messages in this way till I was back to Beijing.

        In Beijing, the north part of the China, the spring announcement is louder and bolder, like the personality of people living there. Magnolia was one of the first blooming in our campus. Like the size of its flowers, the announcement is confident and proud in a full and clear tone. Before moving to California, I used to think magnolia is a super precious species as I only knew three magnolia trees in my childhood, two middle-sized white magnolia in front of the Main Building in Tsinghua, and a huge and old purple magnolia in Summer Palace. I thought they were specially precious because we visited them almost every year in elementary school during our spring field trips. The field trip was supposed to be exciting, however as it was associated with essay about the trees every time, the beautiful petals and elegant fragrance almost turned to be a nightmare in those years.

        Luckily, this “tradition” stopped when I entered middle school. Life has been going fast since then. After years when magnolia had finally been buried under dusty memories, one day I suddenly started missing those lonely and pure white flowers. I was glad to see them after moving to current neighborhood. I was glad to know it’s not hard to grow in California. I’m glad I could reconnect with it and now I know it is truly precious, in a different way.

Who Sculped in Time?

          Everyone’s time is unique. It is consisted of a string of memories. Within these beads of memory, some are specially shining, some were sculped in a special shape, some changed the track of time.  I don’t think I am old enough to name the most momentous bead in my life, but when I brush through the string of memories, I do have a collection of memorable moments, one of which was the day in my fourth grade year.

        I was quite timid when I was a child. I would hide behind my parents’ or grandparents’ legs and grabbed their clothes tightly when a “stranger” said hi to me. Initiating a greeting to neighbors was a hard task, even answering a simple question from close relatives required certain courage. One of my toddler stories was that one day when we visited Summer Palace, several tourists from UK passed by and thought I was cute; they waved hi to me while I suddenly lay down on the bench, covered my eyes with little palms, and waved back with my feet.

        My timidity did not go anywhere better when I started school. In the first three years, we were little chicks under cover. Since my academic grade was on the top, I was designated as the “class president”, but that empty title didn’t ask me to do anything special. Then it turned to be fourth grade…

        In the first day of fourth grade, we were told that we had entered into the “senior phase” of the elementary school and needed to start taking care of many things that were previously covered by teachers or other adults. Each class was assigned a new team of teachers. My new homeroom teacher, Ms. Wu, was a middle-aged female who seldom smiled. I heard she’s one of the best teachers in our school, in our district, even in our city, but also very very strict. I was not afraid of her, as her class was interesting and the homework was not too hard for me, until that Class Meeting.

        In the past, our weekly Class Meeting was always charged by the homeroom teachers, who would summarize the week, pass along or reiterate principle’s notes, instruct us to wipe the classroom windows, sweep the yard; twice a year, we would have field trips; when there’s spare time, we were given extra homework to do during that period. I never thought “class president” would need to prepare anything for the Class Meetings and was totally freaked out when Mrs. Wu called me out to lead the class that day.

        I don’t remember how I walked to the front of the classroom. The only thing I remembered was standing there with flushed face and blank brain; blood was frozen, time was frozen, each minuet was a torture and as long as a century. Finally, she let me go back to my seat and announced that we needed an election for a truly qualified “class president”. Each candidate should submit a proposal of the class activities for the semester and give a speech in a few days, and the whole class would vote right after that. A few boys raised their hands excitedly to join the campaign, then the teacher turned to me and said, “you could join as well if you want to”.

        Did I want to be the president? I don’t know. But I knew I had no choice but rise from where I fell. For the rest of the few days, I spent all my time brainstorming ideas and revising my proposal. It was my faith that I must wash away my shame. By the due day, I was the only person who submitted a proposal.

        Based on the rule, I was the winner. No matter the teacher liked or not, at least she knew I was serious and not easy to give up.

        For the rest of the semester, I had to follow my own proposal to implement the plan. Talking in front of 40 students was quite frightened no matter how much you prepared. I made so many silly and embarrassing mistakes. However, with such a traumatized start, nothing could be worse. My classmates may laugh at me, but Mrs. Wu never let me down since then. She always stood at the back of the room and looked at me with encouragement, sometimes with a subtle nod or shake, sometimes with a comment or correction, sometimes just a slight smile. One day I suddenly noticed that organizing and leading a class activity was quite manageable. It’s not a nightmare to me anymore.  

        She still criticized me, I still felt nervous whenever going to see her individually. I even hated her a little bit because she gave me hard time, but at the same time I liked her and admired her.  She didn’t only help me overcome the fear for public speech, but also the other fear — writing.

        I loved reading since I was young, but it didn’t turn me into a natural writer. My grandpa encouraged me to write letters to him since I was seven and my mom gave me writing assignments during the school breaks. They told me to write just as I talk, but how could these be same? Writing had always been a big burden to me. Surprisingly since Mrs. Wu took over, writing gradually turned to be my favorite part of the class. It’s a pity that I forgot what exact approaches or tricks she used to inspire us for writing, but several tips have been retained:
          1. Be real, be personal
          2. Rich vocabulary is secondary  
          3. A tiny raindrop could mirror the big world
          4. Just start writing

        Two years later, I won a National Writing prize for youth. Four years later, I joined a Young Writers Program to learn more about literature writing. Ten years later, my articles were published on College Magazines and Internet. Now I dare to use my limited English to write about my life. All these started from my fourth grade.

        Since then I could speak naturally not only in front of my class, but the whole school. I attended debates and speech contests, and even chose teaching as my career.

        The teacher who only taught me one semester and gave me the most shameful experience changed my life. “Better than a thousand days of diligent study is one day with a great teacher.”

        Last week my kids were talking about their favorite teachers too. Aidan said it’s her English teacher in 9th grade.
         “You mean the most strict teacher in your high school? Did you get the only B in your whole school years in her class? ”
         “Yep, Yep! It’s not about the grade. I learned the way to appreciate literature much more and the class shaped my world view. She has a high standard and high expectation on us, which is precious in US schools in these days. I got an A from her in the second semester though.”

        Alivia’s favorite teacher is the one she has now in her Social Studies. She kept on talking about him — how he adjusts the curriculum to incorporate real life cases, how he allows students to debate during class on any social topics, how he’s willing to pause the textbook lessons and spend time to answer students’ questions regarding government, policies, and current events. Inspired by him, Alivia attended school district board meetings, listened to the State of the Union Address, decided to join debate team and take AP History in high school, discussed women’s rights with the other classmate, and the two girls even talked about opening a law firm together in the future. It’s still too early to say she found her direction for the future, but I saw the teacher opening a door and planting a seed in his student’s heart.  

        Someone is not only a teacher, but a awakener, a ray of light, a sculptor of life!

Childhood

         One of the challenges that raising children in a foreign country is that it’s hard to share our childhood books or cartoons to our children. Of course, there would still be generation gap under the same culture, however, cultural difference above it definitely made the inheritance even harder.

        When I recall the stories I liked in my childhood, I would think of Zheng Yuanjie, Bingxin, Journey to the West , A Deer with Nine Colors, YiXiu the smart little monk, The Flower Angel, The Little Mole…

        I tried to introduce these stories to my children, however, it’s hard to impress them as these characters are not commonly known among their friends. What they were talking about were Dr. Seuss, Thomas, Five Little Monkeys, Dora, and Nemo; even Simba was a little out before the film was remade in 2019.

        There were a few exceptions, which are Mickey, Donald, Goofy, Tom and Jerry. It seems numerous stories have been developed on these silly characters over years and there would never be an end. I was so happy to watch the old episodes and new ones together with my kids, and burst out laughing in the same way, which brought me back to those precious Sunday evenings when I was young. At that time, there were no VHS, VCR or DVD; one episode a week was all we had. No matter how many years passed, children’s joy is universal.

        I was glad to go through another childhood with my children in a different culture. Together, we discovered children’s books, learned children’s song, played children’s game. These were all new to me. Sometimes they learned in school or from their friends, then I leaned from them. What a fun experience! Some of the books I remembered reading with my son include: The Cat in the Hat, Five Little Monkeys Jumping in the Bed, The One and only Ivan, Wonder, The Giver Quartet, Masterminds, Where the Red Fern Grows…  Gradually they also extracted a little bit of their parents’ memories, such as The Lion King, ET, Sun Wukong, Mulan… I hope multi-culture will eventually bring them a richer life experience, like what I received, instead of any confusion that makes them lost.