What is Love… what is Life?

Take some time to read this. It is very meaningful
A long time ago, there was a huge apple tree. A little
boy loved to come and play around it everyday. He climbed to the tree top, ate the apples, took a nap under the shadow… He oved the tree and the tree loved to play with him.

Time went by… the little boy had grown up and he no longer played around the tree everyday.

One day, the boy came back to the tree and he looked
sad. “Come and play with me,” the tree asked the boy. “I am no longer a kid, I don’t play around trees anymore.” The boy replied, “I want toys. I need money to buy
them.” “Sorry, but I don’t have money… but you can pick all my
apples and sell them. So, you will have money.” The boy was so excited. He
grabbed all the apples on the tree and left happily.
The boy never
came back after he picked the apples. The tree was sad.

(more…)

by Anna Quindlen

This message is from a commencement speech made by a Pulitzer
Prize-winning author, Anna Quindlen, at Villanova University.

I’m a novelist. My work is human nature. Real life is all I know. Don’t ever confuse the two, your life and your work.

You will walk out of here this afternoon with only one thing that no one else has. There will be hundreds of people out there with your same degree; there will be thousands of people doing what you want to do for a living. But you will be the only person alive who has sole custody of your life.

Your particular life. Your entire life. Not just your life at a desk, or your life on a bus, or in a car, or at the computer. Not just the life of your mind, but the life of your heart. Not just your bank account but your soul.

(more…)

It’s long but worth reading

I cried for my brother 6 times……

I was born in a secluded village of a mountain. Days by days my parents plowed the yellow dry soil with their backs facing the sky.

I have a younger brother, 3 years younger than me. Once, to buy a handkerchief which all girls around me seemed to have, I stole 50 cents from my father’s drawer. Father known about it right away.

He made my younger brother and me kneeled against the wall, with a bamboo stick in his hand.
“Who stole the money?” he asked.

I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Father didn’t hear any of us admit, so he said, “Fine, if nobody wants to admit, you two should be beaten!”

He lifted up the bamboo stick.

(more…)