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The Spiritual and Cultural Legacy Left by My Mother

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My mother had a talent for writing. Her handwriting was beautiful, and her articles were grounded in real life and rich in emotion. People jokingly called her "Scholar Luo" (our family name is Luo). Many times, she was specifically requested by leaders to write speeches for them. These requests were often urgent, and she would work overnight to get them done. Among my three brothers, after entering college, I was the one who corresponded with home the most. I also kept in frequent contact with my birth father’s relatives (the Cao family). My father (step father) rarely wrote letters, and when he did, it was usually just a few words appended to my mother’s letters. My mother wrote more frequently, covering topics from daily life to philosophy and interpersonal relationships. Her handwriting was smooth and her writing style flowed like water—it felt like chatting with her. My letters were generally responses to my parents’ concerns, along with my own greetings. Occasionally, I ...
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Life in America (3) Vietnam War Veteran Bob

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  Vietnam War Veteran Bob   Across the street from my left neighbor, Mr. Spiro, lived a couple—Bob, a large-built white man, and his petite Korean wife.     Bob was in his sixties, about 1.9 meters tall, with a big frame. He had some health issues that caused swelling, making him appear even larger. His Korean wife looked to be in her early fifties, around 1.6 meters tall, of medium build, and quite energetic.    Bob worked as a locksmith, often driving his van labeled "B.K. Locksmith" to jobs. (This was a newer van—his original one was much more worn-out.) The B.K. in the name stood for Bob’s initials. He named his business using his own initials combined with Locksmith.   His wife was a homemaker who stayed at home all day. Like Mr. Spiro, she took care of the front and back yard—mowing the lawn, sweeping leaves, and cleaning. She kept their front yard immaculate, with neatly trimmed grass.     Bob and his wife were friendly and s...
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Life in America (2) Bridge Expert Zhang Fugui - 张富贵

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Bridge Expert Zhang Fugui -  张富贵   In the winter of 2007, we moved to Gulf Rd, East Brunswick, New Jersey. The houses here were built in 1956, designed in a split-level style—one side with two floors and the other as a single-story structure. The front and back lawns were quite spacious. Over time, the roadside trees had grown tall and dense, their roots bulging like veins, lifting sections of the sidewalk, creating tripping hazards.   After moving in, I gradually got to know the neighbors, often exchanging greetings. Only the neighbor on the right rarely came outside, and visitors to his home were few. In over three months, I had only occasionally caught a glimpse of an elderly figure from a distance, appearing to be an Asian man.   Spring arrived. The grass turned green, and dandelions began to bloom. I mowed my own lawn, as did my neighbor across the street, which made it easier to run into each other and chat. However, the elderly Asian man had hired a lawn servi...
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Life in America (1) Mr. Spiro, the WWII Veteran

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Mr. Spiro, the WWII Veteran   When we moved to this neighborhood, the houses were old, but the front and back yards were spacious, and the houses were far apart. Spring arrived, bringing lush green grass and flourishing trees. Looking out the window felt like living in a park, which lifted my spirits.   Having been a former "educated youth" (知青), I was used to physical labor. With plenty of free time, I thought mowing the lawn was a good way to break a sweat and get some exercise. I even planted a small vegetable garden in the backyard. Watering the plants daily and watching them grow gave me a serene, pastoral feeling, reminiscent of Tao Yuanming’s idyllic countryside life.   While busy working around the house, I noticed that the elderly man living next door often watched me. He was a short, slightly hunched white man, probably in his seventies, but looked quite spirited. He lived alone, could drive himself, and I often saw him reading newspapers at the city library. ...
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