(Written by Hu Ao in far-off Beijing)

          It was drizzling.  The wind flowed across my face - cold and sweet.  Some of the students were already running on the track and later, I would be taking the last P.E. test before entering high school.  It was to be a 1000 meter run and I lacked confidence as I've never been good at running.  I just wanted to get a six out of the possible ten.  That would be good enough to pass.

          We were in a big stadium.  There were over 200 people in the bleachers.  Most of them were students, but some were teachers, and there were a few parents.  People in the bleachers were shouting things like "Go!"  "Be quick" to the students already being tested.  They were running as fast as they could.

          I was to run in a group of 15 students and hoped that I'd be able to keep pace with some of my friends.  All too soon, I heard my name called by a big man who taught at our school, and I got a number card.  As I walked on the runway, I realized that the time had finally come.  I was going to run and needed to warm-up.

          It was then that I heard a familiar voice.  It was my mom's.  She was calling out "Hu er Hu er".  That's her pet name for me.  I raised my head to get a good look at the people in the stands and I saw her at the front.  She was holding the iron railing tightly so that she could bend her body over toward where I was on the track.  She looked very much at home there - as if she was used to attending track meets.

          I walked over to an area under the bleachers and called up to her, "Mom, when did you get here?"

          "Just now", she yelled back.  "I wanted to say two thing to you.  The first is "Try your best" and the second is the same, "Try your best."

          Then she gave me the sign for victory. 

          Her words made me feel warm all over and I nodded my head to let her know that I had heard and would run hard. 

          When I ran back to my group, the big man walked over to me and said, "Your mother?"

          "Yes", I answered.

          "She came here very early and waited for you, as she wanted to encourage you."

          Hearing that filled me with emotion and I stood there awkwardly.

           "She's a wonderful mother", he said

          "Of course", I mumbled, as I turned my head to look at her again.  I squinted for my vision was blurred.  Was it the rain or could it have been tears?

          I was suddenly full of energy and found myself saying, "Yes!  I'm ready!  C'mon; let's go!"

(Written by Hu Ao in Beijing)

          Yesterday I read a true story about a family that had just returned from a vacation when the father was diagnosed with cancer.  As the mother had to spend all of her time with her husband, the daughter went to live in her friend's home.  After a few months, the father died.  The daughter deeply regretted that she hadn't told her father that she love him and wrote an article entitled, "Don't Forget to Say 'I love you'".

          When I finished reading her story, I wrote some notes about my own experiences on that same theme and put them together like this:

         I've always been proud of the fact that I'm not a moneygrubber.  In my childhood, I lived with the grandma on my mother's side of the family, and from time to time she gave me a few coins and said I could use them to buy snacks if I wanted to.  Instead of spending them, however, I saved them, as I thought they might become important later on.

         When I was 10 years old, my grandmother was also diagnosed with cancer - just like the father in the story I'd read.  I didn't understand the disease, but knew that my grandma was not going to get well.

          Soon afterwards, she was taken to the hospital and had surgery.  During the weeks she was there, I spent almost every night at my grandfather's house (on my father's side of the family) because my parents were busy looking after my grandma.

          When I finally went to the hospital to see her, the room was silent most of the time.  Only a few words were exchanged.  I knew that she probably had a lot that she wanted to say, but she couldn't because she was just too weak.  Almost all the time I was there, she stared at me - knowing that she would die very soon.  I was my grandma's prince, and she had always told that she would be there for me forever.  At the end of that day, I had to leave because grandmother was feeling so bad, and I forgot to tell her I loved her when I left.

          A few weeks later, when I got home from school, the phone was ringing, and it was my father who began the conversation by asking if I'd had dinner, and then he told me the real reason for the call - my grandma had left us.

          At that moment, I felt overtaken by a giant sea wave.  My mind went blank.  I wanted to cry but I found that I didn't have any tears.  I was struck dumb.

          I don't know how I endured that night, as I felt the loss so deeply.  I remembered that grandmother had said she would always be there for me, and I finally figured out that it meant that even though she wouldn't be there in person, she would always be watching over me from heaven.

          I wish I could see my father more often, but when I miss him now, all I have to do is take out the coins grandma gave me - and the old photos - and in that way I feel much better.  People always say "I love you" to their lovers, but they tend to forget other important people in their lives - their parents, their grandparents.

          We should let them know we love them while there's still a chance.

(Written by Hugh Ao way off in Beijing)

          The weather here is becoming much colder as the seasons change.

          Spring is always anticipated because it is the beginning for many living things; summer is an active time as we enjoy being out in the sun; autumn is colorful and stands for ripeness and maturity; and winter is a very special time - not just because of its short days, but because of the snow it brings - one of nature's most beautiful surprises.

          Ever since I can remember, I've loved the snow.  To the eyes of a child, it is always a strange and wonderful thing.  I didn't know what it was.  Mother had explained that rain is the tears of the angels, but she had no explanation for the snow.  When I'd see it falling down, I always got excited.  I'd run happily to catch the flakes with the thought that I could hug them.  I felt that if somehow I could join them - play with them - we'd be able to dissolve together.

          I love the feel of touching the snow.  My cousin and I were always outside when it was snowing.  We'd run through it while playing soccer in the playground and when we'd go back home our parents were always upset as we were so snow-covered that we looked like snowmen.  There were times when we caught colds and even a slight fever, but we were still very happy.

          When I went to primary school, the teacher taught us that in primitive societies people believed that melted snow was holy and pure - the very best thing to drink.  That made me think that snow must have been part of our culture for a long time.  After that, I began to think of snow as having a soul - a pure and holy soul.  I also wanted to taste the snow as it fell although my mother told me that I shouldn't do that.  I didn't really understand why.

          As time passed and I became older and wiser, I learned what snow is and began to comprehend how it's formed.  I no longer ran outside when it began to fall and chose instead to sit at home and enjohy watching it cover everything.  When watching the snowflakes falling down, my heart became quiet and peaceful.  Eachd of them came from the sky and died on the ground - a very short life.  In dissolving they helped clean the entire world.  Our lives are similar to theirs - short, but with the ability to do things for others.  I was pleased with that thought as I continued to watch things becoming white and pure.

          Our lives continue onward, too.  Watching the snowfall isn't as much a part of my life any more.  I expect to walk through it on my way to the things that fill my life, but that pleasure has been denied in recent years, as it snows only two or three times a year now.  It's almost never a heavy snow.  Sometimes it doesn't even cover the ground.  I don't know if I'll ever have the snow-filled days that I remember so well from my childhood.