A gift of love

Every day, after finishing her meal, all she wants to do is go into her room, close the door, and sleep soundly. My friend told me that all the encouragement, exercises, and training methods suggested by others have no effect on her. Her once bright face is now filled with sadness.

Many years ago, my father, then not yet 50 years old, collapsed from a stroke while gardening. Although he received prompt medical attention, the resulting effects were very severe.

My father was lying in bed, and my mother took care of his meals and all his personal needs. My younger siblings, though still young and busy with friends and schoolwork, would still affectionately and cheerfully come to be by our father's side at the end of the day.

As for me, I had just graduated and found a job in a city quite far from home. After work each day, I always made time to stop by shops and supermarkets to buy my father things he liked. Sometimes it was food, sometimes a watch, sometimes a small radio. I spent a lot of time sitting by his bedside, talking with him.

I saw in his eyes not only sadness but also a great deal of fear. From a healthy man, the pillar of the family, all my father could do now was utter incoherent sounds and lie still.

To cheer my father up, I told him stories that helped lift his spirits. I told him about the beauty of the village fields during harvest season, about the eggplant and chili plants that, thanks to the silt from the previous season, were now thriving.

I talked about the advantages and difficulties in my new job, and how I overcame them. I talked about the growth and changes in character of each of my younger siblings. I shared with my father interesting memories and photos from our monthly volunteer trips to the village. I said, "Life is always changing and full of ups and downs and events. But in our family, everyone always loves, appreciates, and trusts you, Dad."

More than 20 years have passed since that incident, and my father, now in his late 60s, is a very agile and healthy old farmer. He plows the shallow fields, clears weeds, and irrigates the deep fields. In winter as well as summer, he always wakes up very early every day to exercise and work. He loves the land and the plants, and he tends to the family garden, which continues to flourish.

My father, perhaps, on that day, he was able to rise up, to rediscover his zest for life, thanks to a strong sense of connection with his family.

I tell you, sometimes in life, what makes miracles happen isn't discipline, urging, or timely and systematic training methods, but rather what each person needs to believe in and hope for: Good gifts will come because we know how to wholeheartedly love.