“Love Is All Around” The 1st Hong Kong Chinese & English Essay-Writing Competition Winners 「愛、傳、城Love Is All Around」 第一屆全港中英文徵文比賽 得獎結果

Florence glanced at her watch. Nine o’clock. It was time to go home. Working in McDonald’s is tiring, she thought. Soon, I’ll have enough savings for my 18th birthday party.

She reached her apartment and rang the bell, not bothering to open the door herself as she was too busy chatting to her friends on Instagram. Her grandmother opened the door and greeted her merrily. “Oh, hi Grandma,” she said, her eyes focused on her phone, heading to her room. Her grandmother suddenly let out a barking cough. Florence heard it but continued texting her friends. After the coughing continued for a few minutes, she came to her grandmother’s side. “Are you alright?” she asked worriedly.

Her grandmother nodded. Florence looked at her with concern. At that moment, she realized that her grandmother was looking a lot more wrinkled.

Her grandmother picked up a book from the table, squinting at the cover. “Is this Oliver Twist?” she asked.

“It says Great Expectations,” Florence replied and wondered why her grandmother couldn’t see words that big. It dawned on her that her grandmother’s vision was deteriorating.

It suddenly struck her that she was much more self-absorbed than she had thought. She had worked all these months with her birthday party in mind, but she hadn’t paid any attention to her grandmother. Every time she came back from work, her eyes were usually glued to her phone. Was she using all her money and time for her own indulgence? Her grandmother had taken care of her since she was born, but now, what was she doing to cherish her?

With that thought in mind, she suggested to her grandmother, “Let me read to you, grandma.” Her grandmother’s happiness could easily be seen from her wide smile. Florence felt a warm delight that she had never felt before.

Florence started to read the news to her grandmother every morning and spent time reading different novels to her when she came back from work. The grin on the elderly lady’s face always gave Florence joy for the day.

Her birthday soon came. The day before it, her friends called her to confirm the plans for the following day.

“Where are we meeting tomorrow?” asked Emily, one of her friends.

“I’m sorry, Emily, but I’m going to spend tomorrow with my grandmother.”

“But it’s your birthday and you’ve worked so hard!”

“Yes, I know, but it’s definitely time to show some gratitude to my grandmother who raised me. I’m going to write to everybody and let them know that the party is cancelled tomorrow.”

“Well… If you change your mind, let me know.”

She smiled secretly at her decision.

“Florence, what are you going to do for your birthday tomorrow?” asked her grandmother.

“I’m going to take you shopping, Grandma,” she answered.

“No, you don’t have to do that. It’s your birthday. Aren’t you going out with your friends?”

Florence said determinedly, “I would like nothing better than to spend my birthday with you.”

My name is Annette. I am a fortunate nine-year-old girl. However, I am still young, and I don’t really understand what filial piety totally is, but I think “filial piety” is respecting your parents, loving them, listening to them and caring about them under any and all circumstances.

My Mom and Dad love me no matter what. They have enormous open hearts, loving and caring for my sister and me all of the time. For example, my dad took us to the animal hospital in the middle of the night when my bunny was sick even though he was exhausted from his long day of work and he had to make an important speech the next day. Another time, mommy took my sister and I to the Canadian Rockies by herself and we were so naughty. And now we’re trying to make it up to her for our past indiscretions.

Parents sacrifice their leisure time to accompany us on lots of interesting outings which make us better and more rounded people. But what do we do in return for them? Nothing. Sometimes we banish them and cause them grief by being naughty. Sometimes we don’t care or treasure them in our hearts. Sometimes we hurt them very much by our words and actions.

Some great examples of filial piety includes a recent news of a girl who wanted to give her lung to her mother who suffered for lung malfunction, but found out she was below 18 years old and was rejected by the hospital. I was very touched of the news and I admired the braveness of her daughter because she wanted to express her gratitude to her mother by sacrificing her lung.

I am still very young and I have not begun my career, so I cannot give money to my parents and my parents do not have fatal diseases for me to take care of but there are still so many ways we can practice “filial piety” every day and they can be very simple, such as we can pick up our toys after we play. We can do house chores. We can do what they say when they ask us. When they are sick, we can take care of them by giving them a glass of honey lemon water and feed them congee.

The world has changed and the young generation nowadays does not respect and love their parents as much as our Chinese ancestors who always put “filial piety” in first place. As my parents respect my grandparents a lot and I should follow them and love them as much as I could. When I grow up, I will work hard and give them a better life and spend quality time with them and pay back what they have given us.

Meanwhile, I can behave and show them respect every day by loving my parents and my sister. We need love all around and by practicing “filial piety” that love will stay and continue on for many years to come and most importantly, it will give our parents all the love and respect they deserve.

My Three Keys

The words "filial piety" are known as "Xiao" in Mandarin. I personally have three keys to respect mγ parents even as a little girl.

My first key is “caring talk". Technologies are very advanced nowadays, so there are
many ways of communicating with mγ parents. No matter how we communicate, like chatting face to face, talking over the phone or texting through mobile devices, I find expressing love to one another verγ important. One of our everlasting topics is "food of the day", through talking about different meals we eat, cook or want, we show our care by remembering each others’ favorite dishes. I would remember their preferences and cook the perfect meal for them later on, which always turns out a loving surprise.

"Quality time" is my second key. I know my parents treasure the time they spend with me, so I accompany them whenever I can. For example, my parents find reading enjoyable, so we go to the library on Saturdays. Talking about the books we read is another favorite topic. Moreover, I think they need to do more exercises to get a good balance between their busy works and a healthy living style, so I suggest our family go hiking or jogging together on holidays. Now, doing exercises has become a close bond among us. I am so glad my parents have developed a habit to exercise. We enjoy every minute of our quality time together. What a lot of good memories we have!

The last keγ is "responsible service". When I help with house works, no matter what and how I do, my parents are always very pleased, although they may not praise me every single time. Furthermore, I understand the best thing in their mind is to see me make progress on anγthing, saγ, studying, hobbies, confidence, serving, etc., regardless of how small the progress is. I still remember, one daγ last year, I helped my parents water flowers. As I never did that before, I watered them in a blazing afternoon. As a result, some flowers died. I cried with guilt. My parents comforted and encouraged me: "Don't feel guilty. This is just the first time. You can continue to help us water in the mornings!" After that, I kept watering the flowers every morning. The flowers have been very healthy and beautiful until now! Therefore, I realize that I should take my responsibility to do what I can. I believe my services always make mγ parents proud.

I use these three keys to honor my parents, and they really work! There is a Chinese
saying "Xiao is the most important of all virtues", I think they are the keys not only to make my parents happy but also to get along with people around me. I hope I can discover and share more blessing keys in the future!

My Three Keys

The words "filial piety" are known as "Xiao" in Mandarin. I personally have three keys to respect mγ parents even as a little girl.

My first key is “caring talk". Technologies are very advanced nowadays, so there are
many ways of communicating with mγ parents. No matter how we communicate, like chatting face to face, talking over the phone or texting through mobile devices, I find expressing love to one another verγ important. One of our everlasting topics is "food of the day", through talking about different meals we eat, cook or want, we show our care by remembering each others’ favorite dishes. I would remember their preferences and cook the perfect meal for them later on, which always turns out a loving surprise.

"Quality time" is my second key. I know my parents treasure the time they spend with me, so I accompany them whenever I can. For example, my parents find reading enjoyable, so we go to the library on Saturdays. Talking about the books we read is another favorite topic. Moreover, I think they need to do more exercises to get a good balance between their busy works and a healthy living style, so I suggest our family go hiking or jogging together on holidays. Now, doing exercises has become a close bond among us. I am so glad my parents have developed a habit to exercise. We enjoy every minute of our quality time together. What a lot of good memories we have!

The last keγ is "responsible service". When I help with house works, no matter what and how I do, my parents are always very pleased, although they may not praise me every single time. Furthermore, I understand the best thing in their mind is to see me make progress on anγthing, saγ, studying, hobbies, confidence, serving, etc., regardless of how small the progress is. I still remember, one daγ last year, I helped my parents water flowers. As I never did that before, I watered them in a blazing afternoon. As a result, some flowers died. I cried with guilt. My parents comforted and encouraged me: "Don't feel guilty. This is just the first time. You can continue to help us water in the mornings!" After that, I kept watering the flowers every morning. The flowers have been very healthy and beautiful until now! Therefore, I realize that I should take my responsibility to do what I can. I believe my services always make mγ parents proud.

I use these three keys to honor my parents, and they really work! There is a Chinese
saying "Xiao is the most important of a

I was so nervous today because I was going to represent my city in a competition. This competition was not an ordinary one, but it was "The Most Filial Son/Daughter Finals in the Country." All of the students here today were elites selected from key schools in various provinces and cities.

To be honest, coming into the competition, I absolutely had no confidence in winning it. The city I lived in, was one of the poorest in the country, and the school I studied in, was nothing but a rural school.

But I was lucky enough to be one of the top two finalists.

"You will now be asked a couple of questions."

"What is filial piety?" The host started, by asking the other contestant first.

“Filial piety is an act advocated by the Confucian tradition. It is also, China's most important virtue that entails strong loyalty and deference to one's parents." She spoke with impassioned energy.

At this point, I felt discouraged, thinking I could never measure up to her response.

"What do you do when your parents get sick and feel sad?"

"My father goes to work, while my mother gets everything done for me every day. I have never seen nor notice them being sick or sad!"

"What would you do if your parents didn't buy you what you wanted?"

"I would win first place in class, so they would definitely buy what I want. I have never disappointed my parents in this regard.”

When I was still thinking about how I could answer the same questions the host asked the other finalist more appropriately, the host interrupted my thoughts and started asking the questions.

“Contestant number two, what is filial piety?"

My mind went blank and couldn't think of anything. With no response, I felt hopeless and embarrassed more than ever.

The host then moved onto the next question and asked, ” What would you do if your parents were sick or sad?"
Answering him with honesty, I said, ”I’ll do some housework for them or tell them a joke to make them laugh.”

"What would you do if your parents didn't buy you what you wanted?"

I started pondering what I wanted to have?

After thinking for a little while, I said, "Actually, what I want most, is a rice cooker for my mother, so she doesn’t have to squat on the floor, lighting the fire using wood and dried twigs to cook every day. I know she is suffering from constant pain in her legs, so it is very difficult for her to do simple chores. Seeing what my mother goes through every day and feeling the intolerable pain she’s living with, I strive to study hard so that in the future, I can earn enough money to buy a cooker for my mother.”

The results were finally in.

The judge cleared his throat and said, “The idea of filial piety is very simple. Confucius, the founder of Confucianism says we must pay attention to the feelings of our parents and be nice to them with reverent countenance. Contestant number 2 is doing so well in this regard and has proven herself through her humble responses.” I looked blankly in shock at the judge on stage and he looked back, smiling promisingly assuring me that I was the winner of “The Most Filial Son/Daughter Finals in the Country.”

“The ugly sea monster is not as terrible as the ungrateful children.”

This sentence taught me that we should show filial piety to our parents as ugly sea monsters are terrible things so ungrateful children must be REALLY terrible!

Let me start by asking, do you know what filial piety is? Well, it's ok if not as this essay will tell you all about filial piety. In the “Warring States" period of China's history, there lived a great educator named Confucius. He gave many celebrated lectures to his disciples about filial piety. He said, “All my disciples should have filial piety, and the best disciple is a filial son." I think we should all learn from him.

In China, there are some stories about filial piety. This is one of them that I think is very profound:

In the old days, there was a son named Tan. His parents were very old and they had eye disease so they needed to drink deer's milk. So, Tan wore a deer skin and went to a mountain and went into a group of deer. When he was milking them, he saw a hunter who wanted to kill a deer. Tan pulled off his deer skin and talked about his parents' eye disease and the reason why he was milking the deer. The hunter admired him because he showed such piety to his elders. Finally, the hunter gave him some deer milk and escorted him out of the mountain.

From this example we know that filial piety is important and we know that in ancient China people paid a lot of attention to being filial.

Now I want to discuss some ways to show filial piety. We all have people who can act as the objects of our piety. For example, parents, teachers and the elderly. We can help them to do housework, we can work hard to get good results at school to make them feel proud. Of course in future, we can try to earn lots of money so that we can give some money to them to pay back their love of us as children. We can meet our relatives when having our holidays, so that we can make them feel they are not alone. Perhaps we can buy some gifts on teacher's day for our teachers to say thank you for their hard work.

So, there are lots of ways to show our filial piety towards others.

Some people may ask, "Why do we need to be filial?"

I think it's because we should be thankful to the people who help us a lot. For example, our parents gave birth to us and this was not easy. Also, they hoped we would be healthy and have a good life so they helped us by buying us food, toys, books and so on. They spent lots of their hard earned money on us but they don't grumble. They have sacrificed a lot. This shows their great love and so we should be grateful and filial to them.

Overall, filial piety should be shown to all the people who have taken care of you, who have helped you a lot and who now need care. They have given you lots of love so we should do everything in our ability to show them lots of love too.

We must be very familiar with these words, but there are few people in the world who can do it.
I think my dad did it. Five years ago, daddy retired early on the grounds that my grandfather was dead and my grandmother was depressed. He hoped to return home to visit them. For various reasons, he couldn’t go to the mainland until three years later, but my grandmother was not deprived of wisdom until that time.

My dad wasn’t ashamed of or disgusted by my grandmother. He always went to the hospital to visit her. He held my eighty-five-year-old grandmother and fed her fruits. He also talked with grandmother and took her outside to see the beautiful views. My dad did these things every day.

At that time, a lot of relatives said to my dad, ‘If my son is just as filial, I will be so happy.’ And some said, ‘I will honour my parents like you!’ Everyone thought that my dad was a filial man and everyone appreciated him.

My dad accompanied my grandmother for four years. During those four years, my grandmother was very happy because my dad walked with her for the last few years of her life. When my grandmother died, she had a smile on her face, but dad cried sadly.

When I listened to my dad tell his true story, I had an urge to cry. My dad was filial, but how about me? I have nothing to worry about. I always help my dad and mom do things. I care about their feelings. Why do I ever need to think of filial piety?

I learned a lot of things in my dad’s story. Honouring parents is not necessarily a matter of money. Sometimes, a phone call, a meeting, or a cup of hot tea can make parents happy. Now, while my parents are still healthy, I want to change myself. I need to care for my parents and honour my parents, so I hope everyone can be filial children.

In Hong Kong, one of the busiest city in the world, the new generation puts less attention on ‘Filial Piety’. ‘Filial Piety’ is a very important quality in all humans. This quality, if spread around, could make a huge difference in the whole human race.

What is ‘Filial Piety’? It means to treat your parents with respect. For example, in the Chinese tradition, children pour tea for their parents, and then kneel down and hand it to them. Another example is not to leave home when your parents are there. “Well, I have done some of these things already!” However, have your ever thought of doing more than that while caring about your parents? In my opinion, ‘Filial Piety’ can be demonstrated in two parts— to respect your parents and to take care of your parents. It is actually hard to perform this quality by yourself, as most people nowadays are very busy. The young children must equip themselves well academically and to promote their personal developments all the time while the young adults must earn their living for their families and keeping their competitiveness in the society. Despite these hardships, I would like to suggest making full use of our leisure time to communicate with our beloved parents. Instead of using mobile devices for entertainment, we may try to spend some time to walk with our parents on the way back home; to talk to our parents during dinner time, to jog with our parents on weekends. From these slight changes of living habits, I am pretty sure that parents can feel your ‘Filial Piety’ which is your love is around them.

You may wonder how can we promote ‘Filial Piety’ among people? Reading books about Chinese history is a good way. For example, I believe that we could learn from the old children like Kong Rong giving away bigger pears for the older members in his family which shows respect for the elderly. Also, there is another story of Huang Xiang warming his dad’s bed in the winter and cooling it in summer which shows cares for the elderly. We should learn the moral of these stories.

You might also ask, “Are there some easier ways to achieve ‘Filial Piety’?” My answer is a definite ‘yes’. There are tons and tons of ways to get to the point where you can achieve ‘Filial Piety’. I would like to share one of my personal experiences with you. My granny passed away 8 years before I was born. Though I don’t know her exceptionally well, I keep going to her grave twice a year to give her my blessings.

‘Filial Piety’ is a very important quality in the lives of the human beings. It shows how important your parents and your older relatives are, and you should care and respect them. So, why don’t we try to make our world a better place to live in, with other friends as well!

Growing up in a Chinese family, children like me are instilled with an idea called filial piety. This is one of the virtues to be cultivated. It is love and respect, obedience and care for our parents and elderly family members. I have heard a lot of stories about dutiful and devoted sons or daughters. The Thirty-Six Examples of Filial Piety is an important part of Chinese folklore. However, I find it difficult to be as dutiful as those children in the ancient times although their filial affection deserves to be praised.

Cai Shun lived with his mother in poverty. One day, while Cai was out collecting mulberries, he encountered some robbers, who asked him why he separated black and red mulberries and placed them in different baskets. Cai replied that the black ones which tasted sweet were for his mother whereas the red sour ones were for himself. The robbers were impressed and gave him some food that they had. However, in the affluent community like Hong Kong, parents are the ones who give the best to their children. I am too young and too “fortunate” to look for food for my parents. It is only when I grow up, I will definitely repay my parents.

Huang Xiang lived with his father. During summer, Huang fanned his father's pillow to ensure that his father could sleep comfortably at night. In winter, he wrapped himself with his father's blanket to warm it. Nowadays, we have air-conditioners which can replace what Huang Xiang did for his father. My mother cleans my tumbler and prepares my snack box every morning. Even when she is ill, she consistently does the same no matter what happens. As a ten-year-old kid, I cannot do what Huang Xiang did but I am sure I will repay my mother for her unconditional love and care.

Huang Ting-chien of the Sung Dynasty became a member of the Hanlin academy. Even though he was an esteemed person, he served his mother with utmost devotion. Every evening he would personally clean his mother's chamber pot. It seems that only when I am an adult, I can take care of my parents. Recently, my great grandmother has been critically ill in hospital. I noticed how thoughtful and considerate my grandfather has been. He visits his mother every day. He pats her to get rid of her phlegm and cleans her chamber pot consistently every day without grumbling.

As a little kid, I cannot act like Wang Xiang who undressed and laid on the icy surface of a frozen lake to catch fish for his parents. However, I can show my filial piety by fulfilling my duty as a student. I take the initiative to do what I should do in the hope that my parents have no worries. I believe it is love and respect by which I can demonstrate my filial duty and affection in today’s affluent and advanced society.

Nowadays, people don’t care much about their parents and elderly relatives. Some people even treat them badly and talk to them rudely. They seem to forget about the importance of the traditional Chinese virtue of “Xiao”, filial piety, which means that we should respect and love one’s parents, elders and the elderly.

Frequently, I heard news about family disputes and violence. I even came across the incident of a son shouting at his mom. That day, when I was going to school by MTR, I suddenly heard a young man shouting at his mom, “Mom, can you shut up? You are too garrulous. I don’t want to hear your advices!”

This prompted me to think that everyone, including myself, may sometimes get impatient with our parents and elders, and talk to them impolitely. But when we are getting impatient with them, do we ever stop to think that we will become an elderly or even parents someday? Do we want people to treat us like this?

When we were kids, our parents and the elderly relatives have been very caring to us and helped us to do many things such as playing with us even though they were very tired after working for a whole day. They would explain patiently and answer our endless questions and queries, and they would take good care of us when we were sick. Also, we often see children crying to beg their parents to buy things for them and parents will try their best to fulfill their needs and demands. So, we should love and take care of them, and treat them with respect in return for what they have done for us.

What can we do for our parents and elderly relatives in return? We should respect them, be nice and polite to them. When our parents are getting old and can’t make money themselves, we should support them financially for expenses on medical, food, housing, etc. Among all of the things that we can do, our care and love is the most important. Hence, we can visit the parents or elderly relatives and talk to them. With much caring and love, it promotes harmonious relationship in the family and the society as well.

Filial piety is the Chinese virtue which we should always remember. We should respect and love parents always and forever. Give them care and love. Love will be all around the world!

To many Chinese, filial piety is a virtue that a son or a daughter upholds a kind of responsibility to their parents. This responsibility is an attempt to work hard for the good deeds of the parents as well as for the family.

I think the relationship between parents and children will become a bonding, which makes the family members closer. In Chinese, the word ‘ xiao’ has got thousands of meaning. Here I try to cite some examples.

The first one is ‘respect’. In a Chinese society, parents have higher positions. As a child, we need to listen to their words. As they have more life experience than us, they can give us advice. Hence, we need to be obedient, kind, polite and honest. We cannot lie to our parents. Otherwise, we can never get trust.

The second thing is ‘duty’. Parents work hard to earn money for the family. As a son or a daughter, think how hard our parents work for the family; think how early they get up to serve us breakfast; think how late they sleep to have all the work done before they go to bed. As a son or a daughter, we need to take up some of the housework such as sweeping the floor, washing clothes or cooking dishes. Of course, we need to study hard. It is our basic duty.

The third thing is ‘integrity. All family members need to be cooperative and affectionate to one another. Hence, the family is in a perfect condition. As a child, we follow our parents’ suggestion and wishes. We should not argue with parents but listen and make suggestion. We can have our own opinion but should talk with parents sincerely and gently.

To many western families, filial piety may carry a different meaning. Children have more freedom and space on intellectual development. They are creative in all aspects. They open up themselves to make suggestions and voice opinions. They will tell their parents what has happened, how they feel and negotiate on a solution. Children and parents communicate in a silent and peaceful atmosphere. Parents are open-minded. They will not blame their children for their incapability. On the contrary, they will just give their advice and opinion. Children make promises to improve and try their best next time. Children and parents work together for the family. For example, daughters cook with mums while sons make tree houses with dads. It is the most unforgettable and treasurable experience. Children understand the parents’ feeling and care. This element is important when children have to pass the good virtue to next generation.

No matter what, I think filial piety is really meaningful. It repays parents for their love and care. Filial piety is a virtue, no matter you are a Chinese or a Westerner. It is a human etiquette and behaviour that works for the well-being of a family, of a society, the nation and even the world.

I have a warm family which I can depend.
We are as close as best friends.
We support each other
And we love each other.

Mum takes care of me day and night.
She teaches me which is wrong and which is right.
I ask my mum when I can’t solve mathematics.
My mum says just do it step by step and I don’t have to panic.
I ask my mum to read me bedtime stories to get rid of nightmares.
My mum teaches me how to create our own story with
‘who’, ‘when’, ‘where’.

Dad plays and chats with me after work.
He buys me books which I love to read after doing homework.
I ask my dad for permission when I want to play computer games.
My dad tells me to forgive and don’t always blame.
I ask my dad to bring me out on holidays and enjoy outdoor fun also.
My dad teaches me “work hard and play hard” is always our motto.

When I grow up, I want to live with my parents.
We will love each other as much as present.
I will take care of them day and night.
I will bring them to new restaurants that come to sight.
They may have difficulties with new technology.
I will show them step by step patiently.
They may become forgetful or get sick.
I will give them the best medication I can make.

Before I grow up, parents take care of me very much.
When they grow old, I will take care of them as much.
There are endless examples of love that I’ve taken from them.
Some years later, I will give the same unconditional love to them.
Filial Piety is the virtue that everybody knows.
The love to parents is what we should always show.

What is love? Different people have different ways to express their love to their loved ones. Even in our ups and downs, love can rise like a fire and warm the icy part of your heart. To me, parents’ love is like a bonfire on the safari: warm, happy and secure, you can feel it even when you are not near it. Even from a distance,
you can tell it is there, guiding us from the cold to the warmth.

When I was a younger boy, my dad was away, so I don’t have a vivid memory of him. But I have an impression that he is a very kind and playful person. I think he is the reason I am so playful as well.

I love my mum the most because she is the one who raised me and supported me all the time. She is a kind, patient and caring person. Whenever I am sick, she would bring me to see the doctor and use caring words to try ease the pain. If she wasn’t there, the pain would always become unbearable. How is my mum so supportive?
She always stood by me, making sure that I wouldn’t fall. Even when things looked rough, she would just keep trying her best to find a way to overcome it. Whenever I don’t understand anything, she would patiently try and help me figure out the problem. And by the end of the day, I would be very familiar with what she taught me. Just like helping me with my Chinese, sometimes she has to be harsh because I was not paying attention but most of the time she is really nice and relaxed if I am attentive.

I love my mum a lot, she is the closest family member I have. She is the only person I can trust with my life. My mum also loves me the most, she thinks that I am the most valuable “treasure” in her life. She even says that I am worth more than gold and riches. My mum loves the movie “Out of Africa”, she loves the safari scene. To me I think my mum is a bonfire on the safari.

My mum is just like a flaming bonfire on the safari, setting it so high that it looms over the horizon, making it look like another sun, leading me to a warm and secure spot, a place to rest. Although the bonfire is still going strong, it has a timer. This bonfire will not last forever. I want time to move slower. I hope my mum can
stay young, so she would never age or go away. If there was a way, I would do anything to stop time, freeze the picture - A picture with the company of my mum forever.

Growing up is a natural phenomenon which we all need to face. As I get older, I gradually realize some important truths about our parents’ unconditional love.

When I was young, I always took my parents for granted as they provided everything I ever needed and helped me when I was in need.

Until recently, something tragic incidents happened and it completely changed my attitude towards my parents. My beloved aunt has just passed away and it was astonishing news for our entire family. While I was attending my aunt’s funeral, my cousins told me that when my aunt was very sick, they helped her wash her body and even trimmed her toenails. I felt ashamed after hearing it, as I have never taken care of my parents while they were sick.

After the funeral, I told myself that no matter what happens, I must try my best to look after my parents and release their burden. Since then, I helped my parents do the housework and of course studied hard for my exams so that one day I can take care of my parents unconditionally.

Intangibility has fascinated writers since the inception of language. After all, what’s more enticing than describing the indescribable merely by distorting words? It is no wonder that the facades of culture have sparked the imagination of many throughout the annals of history, especially in China, where the great words of Confucius and many other wise men have evoked the imagination of the heir of what we now know as one of the greatest civilizations history has ever witnessed.

Nevertheless, I have always found filial piety a tedious topic to work on. While this traditional family value takes its roots from the authoritarianist social norms of the olden days, and has laid the foundation for basically all traditional family values we Chinese are ever-so familiar with, its depth and complexity are what makes it especially enticing yet daunting to write about.

“Filial piety takes precedence over all good deeds.” This is what Confucius conveyed to his students. While all those of Chinese ethnicity are orientated to follow this tradition, what actually is filial piety?

Virtuous Aqua
Nourishing those who breed
Nurturing those who suckle
Amid misshapen chaos

Socialization plays a crucial role in education. Different socializing agents instigate the mind in very distinctive ways, especially when it comes to the Chinese and Western ways of teaching. Although the rather laissez-faire education of the Western world does involve the concept of respect, there seems to be a fundamental business between that and the filial piety that is often reiterated in Chinese families. While both may involve respect and love among a plethora of other values, filial piety encompasses literally everything that governs our attitude and beliefs towards our elders.

In modern society where fairness and equity are of key importance, filial piety is sometimes ridiculed as a ritual of the past. This is unsurprising especially to those who have immersed the traditional readings related to filial piety – The Twenty-Four Stories of Xiao mentioned an anecdote where a teenager lay on an icy lake in a bid to catch some fish for his ill-stricken mother. Another narrative illustrated a man selling his son to make ends meet for his mother.

Prominent Chinese author Lu Xun of the previous century was a prominent condemner of the such practices, saying that it has led to Chinese people resting on their laurels. While it seems incomprehensible to many especially foreigners as to what extents our ancestors did in the name of filial piety, it is not the case when we consider the key spirit of xiao – to repay our parents for their sacrifices in nurturing us. Although this may sound super old-school especially to rebellion-prone teenagers (like me), I have always believed this virtue would dawn upon us one day.

Penetrating perplexity
Of well-seeming forms
Thy beacon absent
Lost for words

As much as we endeavoring teenagers hate to admit, we do feel overwhelmed at times. Take sickness as an example. I remember vividly the day when my doctor diagnosed that I had contracted Avian Flu. Literally a shell without poise, I was confined to my bed for most of the week, only for my mother to work for days on end to find a way to alleviate my illness. From conjuring my medically-appointed diet to soothing the sobbing child, I am not sure if I would still be here without all those touches of love and affection. It is such silhouettes that make me remorse and reflect every time I rebel.

Climbing up the learning curve has never been easy. Unlike other animals that have the inborn ability of adapting to their surroundings, we humans are quite the opposite – without parenting we would probably crouching under a blindfold. It is our parents who play a big part in conjuring the learning ladder that we look back upon on this day. Although it is irrefutable to a certain extent that parents have the obligation to take good care of their offspring, isn’t it not the same the other way round? Even the most magnificent of trees stem from their roots. Sometimes, it is the little things in life that make the more significant differences. Yet it is a shame that subtlety seldom arouses sensitivity.

Shimmers galore
Sparks glimmer
Yet what is yearned
Glows in seclusion

“There are three degrees of filial piety. The highest is being a credit to our parents, the second is not disgracing them; the lowest is being able simply to support them.” This is what Daoism has dictated for us sons and daughters to follow. Contrary to Western beliefs that providing for parents is already a highly appreciated gesture, filial piety demands much more than that, and it is this virtue that defines the richness of Chinese culture. While we all hope to shower our parents with interminable wealth and riches, is it really what our parents yearn for? A survey conducted in 2015 revealed that the overwhelming majority of mothers wanted not a celebratory dinner, nor a present or money for Mother’s Day. It was a simple “I love you” that tingles the hearts of our mothers the most. In the current era where all generations are burdened by the hustles and bustles of life, it is our parents who are often the sacrificial lamb – after all, who is the one most often neglected when the rush of life kicks in? Filial piety does not require us to fork out a lot of time and effort – it is the sincerity and respect that counts the most. A hug or even a simple text message can make all the difference. At the end of the day, it is intangibility that evokes our emotions the most.

We all yearn to savour the tannins of life. They bring vibrancy and meaning to our lives. Although riches and romance, among others, may bring about amazing explosions on our taste buds, sometimes a tinge of filial piety is what makes us reflect upon ourselves, and more importantly, bestow our spirits with wellness.

Our Roles

“Tap…tap…tap.”

The old lady clutched clumsily at her walking-stick as she wobbled down the pedestrian walk. Her son and grandson walking next to her, phubbing. Pathetic? Certainly.

Sadly but truly, this scene is not uncommon to see in Hong Kong. To date, we have seen a large number of elderly strolling along the street alone, just because their dear sons have to work hard, having no time to take care of them. Some may even become scavengers because of a lack of financial support. Others may live in solitude or in an elderly home where the staff are too busy to take good care of their occupants. This is certainly heart-wrenching and thought-provoking. They once had a family. They gave birth to their sons or daughters and raised them up. They gave their off-springs their hearts and souls. However, they are abandoned and neglected once they started to age. As cruel as it may seem, this is the same old sob story of many old people in this city. What has become of our society? Do young people pay no respect to the older generation?

As the saying goes, ‘Filial piety is one of the virtues to be held above all else’. Filial piety has long been the core value of Chinese culture, but tragedies and a rising trend of elderly living alone, later-life depression and abuse of the elderly raise concerns about whether filial obligations towards ageing parents are in decline. The impact of intergenerational relationships on the quality of life of older people is undeniable. The emotional connection and dynamics between the two generations in the local context has occasionally been disregarded.

There is de facto something wrong with the attitude of the younger generation. We used to turn a blind eye to the care and love from our parents because of the stress brought by work. In the long run, this would greatly affect the quality of their life. The elderly people who suffer from abuse or negligence exhibit greater instances and higher levels of depression and psychological distress than their non-abused counterpart. It is believed that this is caused by the negligence of their children.

In the past, the Chinese respected and highly promoted the virtue of filial piety. In the Han Dynasty, the nine-year-old boy Huang Xiang was the perfect embodiment of the ancient virtue. While his father read by the light of a candle, Huang, in the sticky heat of the summer's evening, would fan the pillows so that they would be cool when his father went to sleep. In winter, when the freezing wind and snow turned the world to ice, the little boy would first hop into his father's bed to warm up the blankets. Then he would call his father in to come sleep in the cozy nest he had made. This renowned Fan Mattress and Warm Quilt story had been included in modern textbooks, showing and solidifying the importance of filial piety.

Traditionally, it is believed that having an old person in the family is a wise thing, but many old people are now living without the accompaniment of their children or grandchildren. Old people may not bring income to the household. However, they contribute their time and share their experiences. They are our advisors, offering us solutions to problems. In return, what they desire is not monetary or materialistic, but our love and care. As the saying goes, ‘hosting an elder, hoarding a treasure’. It is certainly a sheer bliss to live with our old parents and take care of them.

However, how many of us have mistaken the love and care from our parents as annoyance and an intrusion of privacy? How many a time have we regarded them as a burden? “What you do not wish for yourself, do not do to others.” All of us age gradually. The young will become the old one day. Therefore, it is of paramount importance for all of us to show humanity and parental respect if we desire the same thing from the next generation.

As the proverb has it, ‘Blood is always thicker than water’. We are related by blood to the more senior members of the family. Being old, living in solitude and feeling useless are the most terrible situations that a human being can be put under. Statistically, elderly people have a higher tendency for pessimistic thoughts and greater desire to end their lives because there is not a shelter for them, not even their dearest child’s home. Compared to younger people who attempted suicide, they are four times more likely to perform the deed.

As members of the younger generation of society, we should learn to show more respect and tolerance towards the older generation. If words of compliment are bottled up in your throats, a kiss, or a hug, or even mere companionship will do. Sometimes taking your parents or grandparents out for tea, giving them a simple call or paying them a surprise visit can turn the tide. Stop using the excuse of being too busy with life and start showing the older members of family and society some respect and care.

Filial piety is central to Confucian role ethics. We should be the one – and the only one – who spend more time on taking care of our parents so that this virtue can pass on to the many generations to come.

The Sun in the Dark

“Mother, I’m back...” Falling to my knees, I embraced my mother’s ashes that was placed in a simple and perfectly white urn. Bursting into tears, I murmured repeatedly over how sorry I was. In grief, I wept quietly alone, in the dark little apartment.

I, Sunny Chan, was a tour guide. My mother divorced my dad when I was 6. Her life was not easy and she raised me up with her little income from a cleaning job in shopping malls. She was not well educated, and as she hoped I would be cheerful and positive, she named me Sunny.

My mother was too old to work so I became the breadwinner. Recently, we could only live in as mall public rental house. I had been yearning for traveling since I was little. My mother could not afford to take me to a trip, so I had never been away from our district.

Choosing tourism in my university studies, I strived very hard and finally became a tour guide. I dreamed of touring my mother to Santorini where my mother first met my dad. However, reality is never fact but fiction. There was endless work in the travel agency. I worked 24/7 but was paid very little. With our belts tightened, my salary could just cover our daily expenses. I had deposited as much as I could into the bank, hoping to achieve our little dream.

Now that she was gone, the dream will never come true. I picked up a notebook from the table and carefully flipped through the pages. It was my mother’s diary. Reading the stories over and over again, I melt into tears.

11th October, 2017 Rainy
I body check up in hospital. Doctor say I have lung cancer, die soon, 6 months life. He say I go buy medicine for my sick, but I say too expensive, no money. He give me some to make me feel good. I scared, not want Sunny know. She very tired, all money give me, nothing left for her. I find job, cleaner at supermarket. I use my money buy medicine for my sick.

20th November, 2017 Cloudy
I work long long time today, have money. I buy Sunny good chicken, I call Sunny for dinner. She say too busy, not go home. Long long time no dinner with Sunny. I wish her home dinner with me.

9th January, 2018 Sunny
Today Sunny birthday. I buy many good chicken and cake for her. I use all money from job for present. I buy her new luggage case, orange colour . Her luggage bag broken, many holes on it. Hope she like new one. I call her, eat dinner, but she say party with friend, happy. I keep cake in fridge for her. I will give her luggage case later.

18th February, 2018 Windy
Sunny in Rome now, long long trip. Last week my birthday, eat with cleaner job friend. I get some flower today by Sunny, but die. It’s ok, very beautiful. Leave her message, say thank you. I buy medicine for my sick, but doctor say cannot live long. If die, Sunny pay less, more money for her. But love her very much, cannot leave her.

21st February, 2018 Thunderstorm
Me in hospital, tired, very sick. Cannot breathe, miss Sunny. Sunny, cannot stay with you anymore, very very sorry. Take care yourself, eat good dinner. Hope you like orange luggage case. Left you photo, me and your dad. Love you.

Reading the last page of my mother’s diary, those words, though in bad grammar and scribbled all over the pages, struck my heart deeply. After she left me, I found out that all I cared about these years was making enough money for our living. I always believed that being filial to my mother was to achieve our little dream. But what I had been entrusting in had been shattered completely. I had never provided my mother with what she really wanted. I had never asked about her health, and I had rarely been home to have dinner with her.

When I opened the orange luggage beside me, there was a photo inside. I looked at it closely. My mother and father, smartly dressed, hugging each other tenderly in front of the little white houses at Santorini. I traced the outline of parents with my fingers slowly, feeling the love they once shared.

Have you ever cared what your parents wanted? People said filial piety is a virtue of respect for one’s parents, elders, and ancestors. But I would say it is having dinner with your parents, spending more time with them, going out for a walk in the garden, and many other little things you can do with your parents. Even something that is very common and usual can drive the relationship between you and your parents much closer.

Do you know how you were born into this world? Do you know why you are safe and sound living in this world? The source of all the comfort we enjoy is from our parents. Parents gave us life and saw to our growth. Without parents, we could never have seen the world with our eyes. Their kindness has to be repaid for life.

In the first place, filial piety is the basic moral requirement of being a good person. Our relationship with our parents is inherent. Before we were born, we were connected by an umbilical cord with our mothers. Starting from the very minute we came into this world and saw our parents, our relationship built up slowly. When you see your parents with busy and laborious expression, will you feel sad? Of course! Our love for parents is in our blood. We respect and care about them. If a man loves neither of his dearest parents, who will he love? If a man has no respect for his dearest parents, who will he respect? It is widely believed a person with a successful career, a lot of money or great contributions to the world is respectful. Nevertheless, the greatest attribute of all is to have a loving heart, especially to love our parents.

Apart from the fact that our love for our parents is a human instinct, filial piety is one of the most precious teachings in traditional Chinese culture. As the old Chinese saying goes, filial piety is the most important among all virtues. It has been playing a significant role for several thousand years in the Chinese moral framework. From ancient times to the present, filial piety is highly appreciated, especially in the education aspect. Both Confucius and modern educators agree on the importance of filial piety. In China, "Twenty-Four Stories of Filial Piety" has influenced millions of Chinese, which are legendary stories about 24 filial sons and daughters in the Chinese history. Even in the modern civilized society, more and more people pay attention to the education of filial piety. As a result, most modern people know the importance of filial piety. Nevertheless, do people nowadays really understand the essence of this traditional Confucian value?

The key to filial piety is obedience and deference. Filial piety is not only about satisfying one’s parents in terms of their material needs when they get older, but also to treat them with a respectful heart. Nowadays, some people believe that giving their parents money and ensuring their standard of living alone are practices of filial piety. Is that right? As early as a thousand years ago, Confucius gave us the answer. Confucius believed that supporting parents without deference has no different from feeding animals. Moreover, obedience is an important key for us to realise filial piety. I believe that everyone respects their parents, but can they obey their parents? In our daily lives, sometimes we have disagreements and conflicts with our parents. We may say something that hurt our parents when we vent our anger. Parents can be right or wrong, but more importantly is that they have been thinking about their children all the time. If we can put ourselves in our parents’ shoes and be more understanding, we will be willing to be more obedient.

In recent years, the issue of spoiled children in society is gaining public concern. These children are criticized as having low self-discipline, low emotional quotient and low resilience. They are overly dependent on their parents' care, just like little princesses or princes. They like to order their parents to do what is meant to be their own work. When they encounter something they are not satisfied with, they will fight against their parents verbally or even physically. Their behavior is a complete violation of the principle of filial piety. What is more frightening is that in some extreme cases the children even killed their parents because of some dissatisfaction. In 2014, a young man surnamed Chou killed his parents for a little profit. The news is shocking and sorrowful, and also aroused the public’s attention towards the importance of traditional Chinese virtues. If everyone knew the importance of filial piety, would these tragedies still happen? This is a thought-provoking question that is worth exploring.

In the remote areas of China, there are some elderly who live alone. They are waiting for their children who are making a living in the big cities like Beijing or Shanghai to come back. However, they can only meet once or twice a year, usually during the Chinese New Year. Rural areas are generally poorer than those in the cities. Therefore, these old people have a lower standard of living. Parents are suffering, but can these sons and daughters be called unfilial? If they still respect their parents from the bottom of their hearts, they are not. Sometimes filial piety is not about how much money you offer to your parents, but how much you care about them. We cannot blame those migrant workers of being impious, as they are limited by practical constraints.

Looking at today’s Hong Kong, people are not living far away from their parents, but people are busy – too busy to take care of their parents. It is even ridiculously “acceptable” for people to shirk the responsibilities of taking care of their old parents. There is a Chinese old saying, “Parents are gone when the son wants to take care of them”. Our parents will leave us forever one day. Do not regret in later years when you have lost the chance of taking good care of them. We need to treasure every second when we can accompany our parents. Do not just talk the talk but walk the talk.

In Sickness and in Health

Filial piety. Two odd, commonly-used words. This vague expression has a colossal meaning that I have learnt to comprehend. However, as a child, I was puzzled.

Although most of my childhood memories are wiped away by Mr. Time, I do distinctly recall the constant fights between my mother and her mother, Popo.

There was a pattern. It would always start with Mother standing by the kitchen counter, preparing a meal while humming to the radio. At a certain point, the phone would ring. She would pick up and sigh knowing it was Popo calling. Things were still pleasant and calm at that point.

After the greetings, Mother and Popo would start asking each other about what they were doing. Then say, fifteen minutes or so into the conversation, they would change the topic to our financial status, expenditures and salaries, which got on Mother’s nerves, prompting her to abandon cooking once and for all. In response, she would tell Popo it was none of her business with a higher-pitched voice, followed by the repeated shaking of her head and sighs of devastation.

When the discussion grew into a heated debate, Mother would always pace around the kitchen with eccentric hand gestures, as though Popo could somehow perceive her wrath by doing so.

I recall the air thickening and stiflling my petite lungs when Mother and Popo engaged in a virtual fight. Mother would first assert a “Childhood Memory”, commenting on how she was raised the way she was, which evoked Popo’s rage, causing her to counter with “Denial”. Mother’s fury would intensify, kindling a fire in my imagination, leading to a tensing of the atmosphere. Afterwards, Popo would combat her previous statement and challenge a certain detail, - for example the way she acted, - and accuse Mother of an entrapping attempt. Finally, with a frustrated yowl - “Ugh!” - Mother would submit to Popo’s agitating harrying. Victory for Popo!

In face of her dismaying defeat, Mother would hang up with a forceful press of the “End Call” button and let go of the telephone, another hand rubbing on her temples for ease. Somehow this action reminded me of a dragon slayer in the middle of their battle, weary and distressed. I would get this abnormal flutter in my stomach, either because I was famished or concerned, as well as an urge to rush to Mother’s side to comfort her. But I never could never quite work my courage up or find the perfect words, hence ending up sitting where I sat, on the edge of my seat with an unrequited compulsion.

Until one afternoon seven years ago. Everything changed.

There wasn’t the usual phone call from Popo interrupting Mother’s meal making, of which Mother was aware. Her eyebrows knitted closely together, despite telling me not to worry when I inquired about it casually. Eventually, the cooking proceeded with an amiss feeling. Clearly, something was bothering her, and what her mouth said her heart denied.

After Mother finished up her cooking, the long-awaited phone call finally arrived. Relieved, she picked up. What she heard was entirely unanticipated.

Popo was in the hospital.

At the drop of a hat, Mother grabbed her coat and together, we were out the door.

A minute seemed like a lifetime during the ten-minute taxi ride to the hospital. You could only envision the torment Mother was enduring as the dread and anxiety bubbled forth in her blood.

When we finally arrived at the hospital, Mother instantly dashed to Room 607, where Popo was. It was not well-lit, and the anchor grey walls further exemplified its darkness. As I entered the room, I felt the gloominess befall on me, causing me to shiver. Mother was already beside Popo, holding her hand. I noticed an oxygen mask had been placed over Popo’s mouth. Her shrivelled, aged, mirthful face appeared more ashen, lifeless, threadbare than usual; her trembling hands were replaced by still, frigid, morbid ones.

Observing her lying motionless in bed, I truly thought Popo was dead.

Conversely, Mother’s eyes gleamed ... a green light illuminating Popo and the inky surroundings. Mother was so hopeful that I almost believed by her hope alone Popo would be revived.

Moments later, Mother redirected her gaze from Popo to me, allowing me to glimpse the streaks of tears falling along her chin in the vague lighting. She reassured her bewildered but disconcerted daughter - me - that Popo would be up in no time so I needn’t worry.

Father picked me up and drove me back home later on that afternoon. Mother didn’t come home until 9:00.

The next morning, Mother was up exceptionally early making the congee I knew and loved - the kind with scallops and lean pork - for Popo. Her facial expression elicited exhaustion from yesterday’s visit. Finally, for once, I offered to help, but she declined, insisting that I return to sleep at once.

“Mommy, why are you making congee for Popo when you’re so tired?”

“Because she’s my mother and I’m her daughter. This is what I should do.”

I was perplexed when Mother uttered those words. On any normal day, she would pick a quarrel with Popo over the most trivial matters, as though they loathed each other. So I couldn’t comprehend why in the world would she put so much care into making the congee.

“But don’t you dislike Popo?”

“Certainly not! Although we always argue, I’ll never forget how she raised me to the woman I’m today. So, as one of many acts of filial piety, I’m making her congee first thing this morning.”

I was still confused by her words, but witnessing as she was so focused on her task at hand, I knew better than to bother her. When Mother put her mind to a certain thing, no matter how arduous, she would finish it; that’s how stubborn the Li women were. At that moment, the solicitous yet determined expression on Mother’s face reminded me of Popo.

Like mother, like daughter, I suppose.

In Sickness and in Health

“Xiao” is the most important virtue of the Chinese culture. “Xiao” represents the respect for your elders, including parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts and so on. Some understand the statement thoroughly and give it no doubt. Yet to others, this lesson had to be taught, like me.

I was a horrible child. I would ask for things endlessly and expect my parents to fulfill my requests. When things weren’t given, I would throw tantrum until they gave me what I wanted. My parents would care for me when I was sick, yet I wouldn’t do a thing when my parents got sick. I was a spoilt child.

One day, I got into a fight with my parents. I said mean and horrible things that I regretted afterwards. The fight ended with me running into my room and locking myself in. When I entered my room, I found a letter lying on my desk. It was a white envelope with a few yellow stains on the front, along with my name written in black. The ink looked as if it had faded. It was as though it had sat there for years. Even though I felt crept out, I picked up the envelope and turned it around. Carefully I took out the aged letter that was written. I read the letter with shaking hands, a shiver ran down my spine. This feeling turned from a fright into a heartache of sorrow.

13th April, 2004

Dear Celine,
You are probably the same age as I am when you read this letter. I haven’t met you, and I don’t think I’ll ever have the chance to, but I could feel you right next to me. I could imagine you having long hair, brown eyes just like I do, but I know you will be luckier than I am.

Surrounding me are plain white curtains and plain white walls with no decorations. Tubes are connected to my body, helping me sustain my life, earning me more time on this planet. With every moment, I suffer from pain. The worst of these pains isn’t physical, they are the mental scars that I had not enough time to cure.

Being the youngest in the family, I never got much attention, that’s what I used to think. I wasn’t strong enough to do the housework, nor was I mature like my elder brothers and sisters to make decisions, so I caused trouble to seek attention. My father had to work 18 hours per day in order to earn enough money to raise the family. My mother used to work part time in a Chinese restaurant, but when she was at home, she was always a fierce mom.

One day, I fainted and was admitted to the hospital. I woke up, seeing my dad’s tears for the first time. Every day, my family would come visit me to make sure I was doing fine. Yet after the first week, the number of their visits decreased. One day, they stopped coming. I was heartbroken, I felt so unimportant and lost motivation to do anything.

One rainy day, my dad came to visit me, completely soaked from running in the rain. He had gained more white hair and he looked awfully tired. In his hands were my favorite foods. A few thoughts came into my mind. First thing was that he looked as if he’s aged for five years during these a few weeks. The second thing was the more important one. I realized that my family did care about me. Father and mother had to work even harder to support my medication.

I always thought that I was neglected, but instead, I was the one who everyone cared about the most. Everyone wanted the best for me, but I never realized that. I feel so horrible that I had found out so late and I regret doing all those things to gain their attention.

Out of pure thankfulness, I started to cry. I couldn’t make out if he was surprised or if he’s shocked. He gave me the gentlest tap on my head. I wiped my tears and shakily thanked him. Keeping his strict persona, Father told me to stop crying and handed me over my favorite food. I shared some with him, talking about how things have been since I got into the hospital.

Father then looked at me with a serious expression. He told me how my condition was incurable, how I had to stay in the hospital until the disease finally became lethal. Until then, they will have to keep on paying for my hospital bills, despite how poor the family is. They have made the choice to keep me alive for as long as I could.

I felt conflicted when he told me the news. I was afraid, afraid of the day I die. At the same time, I was grateful that I have such a selfless family and I hated how selfish I had been.

I hope you have learnt something from the tale of my life. Right now, I am sincerely happy that I’m still breathing.

Sincerely,
Selina, you-

At the end of the letter, a line trailed down the page. She had died before being able to finish the letter completely, someone else had placed it into an envelope and gave it to me.

After reading the letter, I realized how lucky I am. Both to have such great parents and being able to live in such conditions. For the first time, I apologized to my parents and asked them about my aunt who died a year before I was born.

Although I have always known that I was named after my aunt, I was never told of the story behind it. Fate has brought me to finish what my aunt couldn’t complete. “Xiao” is an essential virtue that connects and protects the family.

1919—Allegiance

1919, Baoding, Hebei Province.

A man, almost a corpse, stumbles through the armed gates. Like a stone dropping through still water, the village erupts into anxiety. Shock resounds on each humble passerby's face. Shouts of urgency; gasps of horror; two feet dragging, deadweights, in the dust.

An aging man scarcely hears the pandemonium from his window, but he sees the helpless body—and it wears the faction's uniform. Zhili.

***

For months now, the politicians have muttered: guerrillas, guerrilla attacks.

Tensions along the borderlines between the Zhili and the Anhui opportunists take merchants’ lives each week. ‘Trade should be kept out of war’ is what righteous generals believe—yet the Anhui do not follow rules. They are monsters, and Zhili suffers their bestiality.

Sun Chuanfang, aging patriarch of the Sun family, watches the village pensively through a rhomboidal window in his door. As if on command, a man in Zhili uniform bursts into the store, gesturing.
Outside, villagers gather to a blood-thrumming drumbeat.

“Zhili! Gather! Warlord Feng has spoken.” Uniforms mill around a horse-rider: the lord’s aide. He unrolls a scroll: “The Anhui have struck again. This time, at one of our patrols. A direct challenge to our border! Each household shall put forth one man for the Zhili army.”

Bowing, Sun closes the door on the commotion. In the house behind the storefront, his family sleeps.

***

Sun Xiuming, the youngest, wakes at any sound, and the present drumbeats reverberate through her.
Xiuming hates the store. Everything is immaculate, cleaned by them, but still things feel dusty: straw-filled boxes and musty shelves of hand-painted vases.

Her father pads into the living area, spectacles askew, balding head. She thinks he looks apprehensive, knuckles clenching a message that he hides under a mahogany elephant. Xiuming sees that expression more and more often nowadays.

***

While her brother Huzhong goes to school, Xiuming learns from village women: sewing, washing, cooking. Arms full with laundry, she nudges the front-door open. Voices waft through, and ever curious, she pauses.
“You must go.” Sun’s voice is commanding, leaving no room for argument. Still, he tries to accommodate, “for our leader. For me, your mother, your sister.”

She hears her brother hum in agreement.

“Remember, son. Xiao is the king of virtues.”

Betrayed by the light, Xiuming enters fully. Her brother, eyes still lowered in respect, leaves; they brush shoulders.

***

For hours, Huzhong acts strangely. He doesn’t return to school. He loiters around, touching things, rearranging, weaving in circles through the house and back to his room. When he passes the living room, his gaze falls involuntarily on the framed figure of his father in the Zhili army uniform. Brighter, tighter features with purposeful, penetrating eyes. Huzhong cannot shake off the feeling: every step he makes will be wrong, until he steps beyond the door.

***

Her hands weave deftly, but her mind floats. She wonders why her brother is packing things, touching, choosing, leaving. This isn’t unusual—she recognises his indecisive patterns from watching him pack the wares; but Xiuming cannot recall Father telling them about new orders.

“I can’t believe it! They can’t do this!” a sharp wail from a village-woman bursts Xiuming’s thoughts. While husbands and sons are at work, they gossip over half-finished baskets.

Another woman sighs in defeat, jabbing the reeds rigidly. “They have our loyalty, they have power.”

“But my husband… I’m pregnant. He can’t leave! What will I do?”

“What you will do,” admonishes her friend, “is keep your voice down. Don’t complain about our responsibilities as Zhili… our men must protect the clan.”

***

Xiuming waits in vain through the table-talk of dinnertime.

She ambushes her brother as they clear up: “Why are you leaving us?” Her tone accuses, her glare cuts.
Huzhong doesn’t lie. “It wasn’t my choice.” He looks softly at her. “It’s for the good of our family and our people.”

Xiuming shakes her head. “We need you here. Not far away. Not dead.”

***

The day after.

Huzhong’s presence is being erased. As each job is reallocated, he loses purpose in the Sun family. His only role now is to fight the Anhui.

Sun mentally checks off the necessities for war. He worries over his son’s inexperience. ‘I had no choice’, he tells himself, ‘I must be loyal’. This is his duty—Sun had sent merchants over the border despite Anhui threats; the guilty must pay for their folly.

Sun’s wife understands, but will never be at peace. Mechanically folding Zhili-crested tunics, the lines on her face read deeply—the natural instinct of a mother constrained by loyalty.

Huzhong finds her curled up with his pillow. He’s surprised that Father hasn’t reprimanded Xiuming yet; perhaps that alone speaks volumes. The bed sinks underneath him with a melancholy sigh.

“Mingming. I know this is hard for you. But don’t blame Father. This is Xiao.”

“But it’s unfair that they can force you to leave!”

“You need to look wider, sister. It’s more; it’s our family’s collective duty as Zhili. We must respect our community’s elders and leaders… for as our mother gave us life, so did our motherland.”

Xiuming never saw her brother sit as straight, look as dignified, speak as confidently. Still, she insists, “I know our people need you. But so do I. I need my brother.”

Huzhong pats her hand. “We are a clan; the people around us give trust without question. You owe it to them to trust also that I’m not sent away for nothing.”

Steadfast like their father, she feels his conviction in their parting embrace.

***

She will struggle at first to adapt, to come to terms with her brother’s absence. She will refuse to speak to her parents, spending time instead with the village women—at least they empathise with her loss.
But she will come to notice how her mother makes Huzhong’s bed each morning; how her father placed Huzhong’s picture beside his own. And she will finally see that they are all bound by Xiao: by sacrifice, duty, love.

Through The Years and Back Again

On January 15, 1990,
You first open your eyes to the world.
Your mom and dad look on happily,
With love for their first baby girl.

One year later and one year old,
Your first word crosses your lips.
Your parents wait, and anticipate,
And “Dada” is what it is.

Months flies by, time whizzes past,
And all too soon, you’re three.
Hiding behind your mothers’ skirt
Becomes your very first memory.

At the age of six, you’re starting school,
And it’s you wearing the skirt this time.
You look prepared, all dressed in pink,
But when your parents leave, you cry.

Seven years old and growing fast,
You turn to your parents and plead.
Mommy and Daddy, please, please, please,
A little sister is just what I need.

At the age of 10, your sister’s forgotten,
And you’re wearing a smile that gleams.
“Emma, you’re just like your mom.”
It’s what everyone thinks, it seems.
But you couldn’t be happier to hear that phrase,
And you hope that it is true.
You want to be like her forever,
She’s perfectly perfect to you.

Three years later, a change of heart.
In the hallway under the moonlight.
And despite the growing hour,
Alive is a full-fledged fight.
Your parents stand, side by side,
Their stance a show of unity.
But you don’t know that behind their mask,
They’re scared by what they see.

At the age of fourteen,
Your home is changed.
The doors all shut,
The air feels strange.
The apartment has a great divide,
It’s their side and your side.
The secrets that you keep from them,
Hang like weights in the heavy air.
But even the cold looks that you give,
Can’t disguise their love and care.

One year later, the tension builds.
It’s a full-blown fight again.
You say you’re going to run away
They yell and say you can’t.
You’ve never seen them so unhinged,
You’ve never seen them so scared.
But this reaction is what comforts you,
And reminds you of their care.

The next three years pass similarly,
They go in the blink of an eye.
And it’s at the age of eighteen,
That you’re waving them goodbye
From the door of your new dorm room,
You’re feeling new and grown.
But when you turn around,
The rooms feel empty and alone.

Your first second of being twenty,
Champagne is all around.
Over the cheers and happy laughs,
Your grandmother muses aloud,
“Emma, you’re just like your mom.”
It’s what everyone thinks it seems.
This time, you roll your eyes instead
Of flashing that smile that gleams.

“Applause for the class of 2012.”
Two years later, that’s what we hear.
Your parents are the proudest of the bunch,
Holding their breath and waiting near.
You look to them on your way down the steps,
Your smile is beaming as you say,
“Mom and Dad, I’m coming home”,
And they let you lead the way.
Through the doors to your childhood home,
You’re telling yourself that this
Choice of yours pays your student loans,
It’s not your parents that you miss.

25 years into your life on Earth,
The phrase comes back once more,
This time it’s not family friends or grandma,
It’s the man you’ve fallen for.

“Emma, you’re just like your mom.”

He says the statement simply,
He’s not sure you’ll take it well.
But you feel as though you’re ten again,
Because the fact makes your heart swell.

Three years from that day,
You’re looking down
at your very own little girl.
You and he look on happily,
As she blinks hello to the world.
And you don’t know it yet,
But that moment is when,
The entire cycle begins again.

Words Left Unspoken

Day1
The horizon was tinged with red and gold, a superb sunset that all photographers fancy. Penetrating the misery in the air of the room, the golden rays planted softly on the girl’s face. Agatha laid so effortlessly, her breathing inaudible. The picture could have been perfect if her blonde curls were not tarnished by blood.

Time seemed to have stopped since expiration was declared. Aunt May, Uncle Josh… her body was surrounded by familiar faces. Behind the crowd, there stood a figure witnessing the unpleasant yet peaceful scene.

Her body was translucent and her silhouette shined pearly white. She had no breathe, no heartbeat.

The idea of having only three days left on Earth crossed her mind as she jerked her head and eyed every single face around the sickbed.

What a caricature, she thought, for a mother’s absence during her daughter’s death. She was overwhelmed with acrimony, but she tried to pretend she didn’t care.

With merely 72 hours left on Earth, it surely wasn’t wise to waste a single second on her worthless mother. Determined to enjoy the advantages of invisibility, the indulgent girl was about to slide through the walls and roam through the world without boundaries. Just before she left, Agatha caught that her funeral would be held on the following day.

She was surprised that her funeral would be held that soon. Having never attended any funerals, the intrigued girl decided to pay a visit.

The young soul flew through prosperous metropolises, great wide valleys, and lastly settled in the Louvre. As she passed by the beautiful Mona Lisa, Agatha suddenly recalled that Mother had once said her childhood dream was to visit the Louvre. It had been too long ago, long before Dad and Mum’s divorce, and when she was less affluent.

Day2
Returning to her hometown, Agatha rushed into the elegantly decorated funeral hall. It wasn’t big, for she had few relatives. The walls were dressed with white silk, and a large polished cross was hanged on the wall where the light brown oak coffin was placed before. The rows of benches were only half-filled.

Agatha watched Aunt May slowly went up the podium. Tearful and sullen, she began her reminisce in a dull tone, her protuberant red eyes stuck on her script. Not paying attention, Agatha was busy searching for her mother among the mournful and dire faces, and finally found her settled in the front.

Long had she not looked at her mother thoroughly. Her black dress was decent. Her makeup was on as usual, but the wrinkles were still visible. Every lady had their hair tied in a bun, yet she let her dark blonde curls down, just as the way Agatha wore them . For the first time, Agatha realised they actually looked alike.

However, that familiar face started getting loathsome. Mother inclined her head at every guest before they left, and generously gave a smile. ‘How could she smile unblushingly while everyone’s crestfallen? Was she… happy about my death?’ Agatha was filled with rage. Her face flushed scarlet, boiling the non-exist tears running down her cheeks. She raised her hand and slapped her mother, but nothing happened.

Everyone left and her mother now stood alone, apparently immersing herself in the glum silence.

‘Ling ling…’ The reticence was broken. A work call. Mother then set off with a slight bow to the altar.

The ghost was left alone to taste the bitterness.

‘I knew it. I always knew that she hates me. She must’ve thought I was the one who ruined their marriage. After all, it’s me who discovered he cheated… No. It’s not you it’s her. She has drowned herself in court cases and left you all alone. She didn’t even endeavor to communicate. Now I’m gone…No wonder why she’s pleased…’

Day3
The last day on Earth. Agatha decided to spend it in her bed, the only place that could offer her security. Assuming the house was empty, she was surprised to see the lights were on. That nauseating woman’s presence gave Agatha headaches. She slid into her room quickly, yet the panting from mother’s room caught her attention.

Curled up in the armchair, Mother’s makeup was completely ruined by torrential tears. She was still in that black dress, her hair all messed up. She was holding a photograph tightly with the face of little Agatha printed on it.

‘..Aggie …’ Mother muttered. After taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat and turned maniac abruptly. ‘I’ve never thought you'd be gone so soon... I don’t deserve to be outlived… perhaps I thought earning more money could compensate an incomplete family… maybe you wanted more space so I never bothered… I just want to be strong for you to rely on… but turns out I’m just…not good enough to be your mother…’

That’s too much to process. ‘How can I be so ignorant?’ Agatha tried to apologize, but words came out without a sound. She glanced around the room, and spotted her favourite teddy bear resting on the shelf which every birthday, a brand new one would be lying on the sofa. Sometimes she wondered why such naïve present was given, but never noticed that’s because Mum never knew her penchant since they’d stopped talking.

Realising she’d been self-centred, she’d give anything for a chance to right all the wrongs yet she could merely watch and cry. Through the pouring tears, Agatha spotted a hint of white standing out in the hair of Mum. She stretched her fingers to pick it away, but her hands went right through her mother’s curls. Until then, finally had she realized it’s already too late to understand and care. Hatred was ever since replaced by regret.

Time was running out. Agatha reached out and cupped her mother’s face as she planted a soft kiss on her stained cheeks.

“...you are the best I could wish for... I could’ve done better…”

An air of emptiness again filled the room.

Words Left Unspoken

For millennia, ‘Xiao’ has long been an irreplaceable part of Chinese education. We have all been indoctrinated a sense of ‘Xiao’ since our birth. Yet, most of us do not even understand what exactly it means. ‘Xiao’, in general, means paying respect to one’s parents and elders. Despite sometimes being elaborated to courtesy towards the grey-haired throughout society, it is reckoned that ‘Xiao’, the esteemed virtue, contributes significantly to our culture.

To the best of my belief, ‘Xiao’ is the invisible rope that puts a family together, one that prevents it from collapsing. A family is established ensuing the birth of a baby. In it, the baby is safely and securely nurtured and nourished, transforming in the process into a toddler, a child, an adolescent, until eventually into an adult capable of living on his own. From then on, the once havoc-wreaking infant no longer needs the shelter. Instead, he builds one, embarking on his peregrination into the uncharted realm. Howbeit, the bonds amongst the family retain and continue holding it together. The little boy will still periodically return ‘home’, taking care of his now timeworn parents all due to the very existence of ‘Xiao’ embedded deeply in the root of our minds. Without it, the family would most likely disintegrate. The little boy might never return, leaving a pair of desolate elders behind in a dilapidated apartment.

With ‘Xiao’, the family doesn’t fall apart. It ramifies into idiosyncratic branches, each with their sui generis features. All branches are connected to the original stem, just like how the little boy constantly returns to his old shelter.

Wait, there is more. Just before you start contemplating the wonderful ‘Xiao’, why not think about it from another perspective? As a matter of fact, the family we call ‘stem’ is, indeed, just another branch developed from another stem. Should we follow this trait, all the branches which have existed, exist, or will exist, all ascribe to one point, where our first ancestor began. Suddenly you find yourself being a minuscule and fugacious fragment of a gargantuan and perpetual family system. Staggered, you delve into this unfathomable wormhole, only to excavate even more surprises. Finally, you have a ludicrous albeit veracious thought that your ephemeral life will be recorded in that unfading tree and you think, what about my ancestors, or my offspring? Yes, all of the dribs and drabs of your forebear have been there for a long time, waiting for you to carry on the fabrication of the vicissitudes. You are of utmost and ambiguous insignificance in the system, but you are of culminant and unequivocal importance. You must comply with ‘Xiao’. ‘Xiao’ must be carried forward, or else all of the travail and endeavor done by the ancient will be in vain.

Unfortunately, the unpalatable reality is that the impact of ‘Xiao’ seems to have been dampened in recent decades. Attrition towards ‘Xiao’ is prevalent under the invasion of Western culture from countries on the other side of the globe, in which there is no sense of filial piety. With the advent of advanced telecommunication technology, the new generation is now more and more oblivious to ‘Xiao’ and other conventional virtues. It is unquenchable that should the trend continue to spread like a pandemic disease, the structure upheld for centuries may become more and more vulnerable. It may topple to its demise in a night.

Here we are, in a pressing situation. Our culture is being eroded away and it is your duty to save it from its demise. Recognize your mission and act now!

The Wise Young Man That Could Not Hear

There once lived a wise young man that could not hear, not of light-hearted suggestions nor the direst of warnings, for he knew that there was not a single soul he could listen to that matched his unparalleled abilities. The young man found that he could not fault. This young man was named Fin.

Fin’s name was fitting for the prophecy that awaited him. Fin’s mother and father were farmers, simple folks that knew more of the hilly lands than the backs of their hands. Fin’s parents loved him unconditionally, letting him go outside on adventures. As Fin would leave the house, his mother would insist from within,
"don't go past the heart-shaped tree. But should you do so, remember that those old owls that lay far beyond the grassy hills and meadows of flowers will help you get back home!"

Such warnings would never be heard by Fin as he left, like so many times before, he wandered on a path set over winding hills and cantered past flowered plains on his newest adventure. He was searching for the potent logs that his father always would use to make fires in the hearth.

Fin had arrived at last to the walls of trees that once lingered at the borders of the farmhouse, however before he would continue, he became aware of two young star-crossed lovers, a man and a woman, lost in the colours of each other's eyes. Fin asked intrusively,
"Where are the best logs on the land?"
"Well," stated the infatuated man, "there's only one tree that can provide the logs you seek, the only Hickory tree beyond the forests ahead."

Fin trudged along, through the rotting rowdy thick of thorns and roots that clung to his feet, wanting to deny him of impending victory rather than leaving him be. The lover's suggestion overwhelmed any other, the desire for success denied him the memory of his mother's wise words.

As the path so faithfully led him, Fin arrived at the steps of a humble abode, with an old concerned looking woman that sat peacefully overlooking a mass of the forest. Fin asked,
"Where can I find the best logs in the woods?"
"Look around," the old woman proclaimed,
"there are countless trees for you to cut, and yet you want the best?"
Fin was tired and thirsty after his trekking, his muscles ached and his shirt stuck to him with dried sweat. The wise old woman noticed his sufferings,
"I shall give you a great offer, young man - my husband's old axe, but only if you promise to go straight back home."
Fin knew that this suggestion was void of excitement and seldom would he accept such direct means for an end. His pride and grandiosity does not permit a simple answer to his task.

A slow descent back onto the path and continuing onward, Fin was imbued a strong inclination to complete his journey, his need for achievement caused by his protest of orthodoxy led him to take a shortcut down a steep trend and into a small clearing in the deep of the forest. There were freshly cut logs, lying around and aroma's of pine and grass encircled Fin. He found himself unable to resist the urge to inspect what seemed like an abandoned sawmill.

The broken mill felt lonesome and aged, with rusted steel tables full of grimy tools and veins of sick green undergrowth seeping up the walls. He sat down and took a break.

He was going to rest his head on some leaves just as a towering shadowy man with three legs stumbled into view.
"Hey!" announced the man, "you shouldn't be this deep in the woods alone. Go back home to your parents."
The man had long white hair with a beard to match and a cane that supported his bulk.
"This is no place for rest," stated the old man in a gruff tone, "why are you here?"
"I need to get logs from a Hickory tree to bring home," Fin said in a tiresome manner.
The end of the day was drawing near. A colder harsher wind spat at Fin, and the skies were stained orange.

"You can come into the mill if you want to," the wise old man proposed. "If you would be inclined to ask me for help, I would duly fetch my ladder."
"You're too old and weak to help me," Fin abruptly replied.
"And are you are too young and strong even for my advice?"
The wise old man questioned. Although Fin understood that he needed rest, it seemed like a far cry from asking for help. Fin opted to at least hear out the wise old man's advice.
"There will should life prevail, come a time when you'll be much like me, and your voice of reason should not be as tainted by arrogant indifference much like it is now," the wise old man huffed as Fin got up, away from his company and towards the greenery.

A brief look back at the old run-down sawmill, a quick rebellious sneer in the old man's direction and Fin was back on the last straws of his journey. Fin knew with absolute certainty that the task at hand was nearing completion. His constant numbing and stout boredom could be released. The trees grew fewer in number and smaller in size as Fin drew nearer.

At last, in a clearing, there stood one Hickory tree. Fin was ecstatic, the hairs on his back jumped with joy. But confined in the midst of his sensation, however, hid a revelation. Fin lacked a ladder to scale the tree and no axe to cut its branches.

Fin heard a young voice from behind himself as his hair was greying and legs now struggling to bear weight,
"Hey! do you know where the best wheat in the land is, wise old man?

Dear Reader,

Please, pardon me. Allow me to be self-centered; allow me to be perhaps… irreverent; allow me to humour you with my self-assured perspicacious thoughts. So, Sir, Madam, Mister, Miss, look out the window, I beg you.

I’ll tell you what I see. I see the hustle and bustle of work-goers, rushing hither and thither in their immaculate suits with a perfectly brewed coffee in their hands. I see the hubbub of students, slaving away to their books and their strenuous tests even as they walk, or rather, stumble. And lastly, just barely, hidden in the shadows of the busy young men and women, I see a little old lady. This little, rather decrepit old lady dressed in rags of all colours, was knelt down onto the floor, perhaps searching for some prized possession which had been washed away, wrung from her in this dipping and rising sea of people. I watched her hands search the concrete road blindly, struggling to even reach a meter outwards before they were thrown backwards by the waves of leather shoes. Even from here, I could see the drops, no, the streams of sweat ebbing and flowing down her contorted face of pain onto the sizzling concrete road. Yet no one, not a single office-goer, nor a single student noticed her or her pain- but only, how slow-going she made the traffic on this Monday morning.

Isn’t it simply abominable how self-obsessed people are? Were their schedules all so jam-packed that they could not afford to donate a single second to easily have made someone’s week? Apparently so. Or perhaps even more sickeningly, these work-goers, these students simply just did not care. After all, these unprepossessing and incapable elderly were only a burden to society and would never be able to return their acts of kindness- or so they believed.

But they are wrong, very very much so. Do you love your life? I’m sure you, alongside those unsympathetic work-goers and students do. Then again, I beg you, I plead you, consider all those things which make your life what it is, consider all the loving people you would not be here without, consider anything and everything which has ever made you smile. These things, these people, this world you live in, did not come together by luck or by chance; they did not come together because of a single genius’ works; they came to together because of all of us, because of everyone who has preceded us, everyone, who had ever taken a single step on this Earth. If your parents did not provide for you, you wouldn’t be alive today; if your teachers did not teach you, you wouldn’t be reading this letter today; even, if some environmental conservationists did not do their jobs, you wouldn’t be breathing this air you breathe today.

You know how the saying goes- we’re all born into the world with nothing, and too we will all leave the world with nothing. But no. We are not born with nothing, we are born with the weight of an unpayable debt of moral responsibility on our shoulders; a debt that needs to be paid, or at least, partially paid. And so, what we leave with is completely up to us. Perhaps some may hopefully leave with the lesser of a debt, whilst others’ multiplied. So to those students, those work-goers, take a minute out of your time, think, act, aid all those around you who though may not seem affiliated with you in any way, but perhaps, perhaps in another time, in another lifetime has helped you, will help you in ways you cannot imagine.

Fine, you might think now, I’ll go visit my parents sometime, or go volunteer at the local community centre. Those actions and deeds, are of course undeniably admirable; but, repaying these debts that you are forever obligated to isn’t just a single action. Repaying these debts means commitment, respect, patience, all the virtues of a perfect being. But none of us are perfect, none of us are faultless, but does it mean that we cannot repay our debts? No, certainly not. Repaying these debts are words, actions, thoughts that stem consistently and truly from the bottom of our hearts, it’s the effort, the intentions, the love that they broadcast which truly counts.

So listen to me again. Love yourself and your life, for your well-being might just save another man some strife. Love your country, for though it may hold contrary beliefs to your own, but if you are here reading this, it has protected you well. Love the people, for they have provided you guidance and support. And finally, love the world, for it has given you the platform to live this miraculous life. After all, this love is our responsibility, our duty, our obligation.

And as for the little old lady? She was still there, still in the rags she called her shirt and the cracked overused cane she gripped with stone tight perseverance. Was she still on all fours? No, perhaps now you and I would wish she was instead. There she lay, sprawled on the sizzling concrete, her arms wide open spread like a star, as people, people like you and I continued to march over her. Her eyes were still wide open, their fiery pain long gone as she stared up into space, perhaps looking for a saviour, perhaps looking for you.

She is not alone, she is only one amongst millions, neglected, hurt, abused. We may never know of her name or the valiant deeds she’s done, but this, this incident, serves as an example of society’s neglection. Neglection that must transpire into compassion.

Run, run now, save this little decrepit old lady. For love is always, and will always be something worth fighting for. Go, do not let people downtrodden this star, the star which marks the start of a revolution, the revolution of love.

With love,
Vania Chow
15th April 2018

Love for All – Filial Piety

'I have never had such a regret in my entire life.'

Did you ever just want to run away from home? To get an apartment of your own just so you could avoid the voice of your parents? I definitely did. But why? Why did I ever want to get rid of the people who believed in me the most?

I was in high school. I was competing for the scholarship for the school of National League of Football. My whole future depended on it. I was never great at academics because I never really worked hard at anything. I'd always fail in class and get detentions for ridiculous reasons I made up. "Oh sorry, my fish ate my homework."

But I was great at football. When I was a little boy, my father always played football with me and watched football games at midnight. He taught me the essentials of the sport along the way.

I was running across the field, holding the "coffee bean" tight against my chest. Running across the field, I heard my mother crying out, "MARK, GET 'EM!!" as she was running across the bleachers following me.
I’d think, oh my god…

When I huddled with my team, they asked, "Mark, was that your mother? "

I looked up and said, "No, I have never seen her ever before in my life."

After the game, I slept over at my friend’s. I didn’t want to see my horrid family because I had lost the game. I hung out with losers who didn’t get the dreaded scholarship like me.

I drove back home in a grey run-down van at 2am in the morning with my friends, only to find out that the lights were still on. The window of light shone across the dark cobblestone trail to my crippled old house.

"What?! Are your parents still awake?", my friends asked. I was half-sober with a quarter stick of weed in my hand. They guided me to the door, grasping my forearm or I’d fall down. I turned the knob slowly and took a step into the house which didn’t seem familiar anymore. My mother said, "Hi Mark, how’ve you been? "

"I’m fine, I’m going to bed"

"Mark, I just want to talk you."

"No, I’m tired. I’m going to bed."

"Mark, I haven’t seen you all day and night. I just want to talk to you," raising her voice.

"SHUT UP. YOU BOTHER ME." That was my last memory of the house before I left my family.

After 7 months which passed like a bat out of hell, I found myself going on tour, playing championship games whilst rubbing elbows with the finest football players. In one of those nights when I was back at home, I received a call from a recruiter for the football leagues. They really thought I had potential. It was too sudden, who would’ve expected a guy like me to get a call from the one of the largest sport companies? I didn’t tell my parents. I just wanted to leave home, no matter how bad my last impression was.

I was at a hotel in Japan. I was lying on my bed when the phone rang. My mum was dead.

How?! How could this happen? I ran out to the lobby, fell on my knees on the cold hard concrete floor and had my hand up in the air crying out I was so sorry. I found out she was involved in a car crash with an 80-year-old driver. After I was done with the Asian tour, I flew back to America to look at them for the last time in black boxes.

I was so nervous to see her in the funeral so I stood in the back corner. I kept looking from a distance and kept thinking to myself, “mum, please wake up, please get up.” When I finally got the nerve, I walked up to her casket. As I got closer, I realized how beautiful she was. She was wearing a white dress with her hands together on her chest. She looked like an angel.

"Mum, you are my hero, everything I am, everything I hoped to be was because of you. You loved me so much. You gave me a life. You were the only one who truly believed in me."

How did I repay her? By getting drunk and getting high? By getting stupid? By hanging out with losers? And for what? All she ever wanted was to talk to me.

"I wish I could talk to you now, mum," I whispered, "I wish you could see what I’m doing. Why couldn't I have been a better son?"

I regretted everything. People are defined by their choices. But I chose to hang out with losers, to be drunk, to be high, to be bad at school? I've learnt the most important thing in life. Life is precious. When we are lucky enough to have a family, we ought to cherish them, because of how easily they could slip away.

What I learnt is to cherish my family. We need to respect and love our parents. We need to take care of them. Everything we do for them is just to balance the scale, for how many times our parents have been there for us.

Filial Piety is the one thing we could do to repay our debt to our parents.

So give them love.

As a precocious child straddling two cultures in the Philippines, the concept of filial piety took root at a very tender age, planted with care by my Chinese father and Filipina mother, by relatives and well-meaning friends, by media, the school, state, Church and every other person I crossed paths with.

It's a concept and societal norm most Asians grow up and live with, yet some struggle to grasp its significance. Others debate its value and a few disown it altogether. For me, it is like a second skin, as natural as breathing, as important as eating, as essential as drinking.

My earliest memories of filial piety were about food. As a family who loves to cook and eat, mealtimes were (and still are) sacred. My mother would serve all of Papa's favorite dishes, and while they offered us kids the choicest bits, we always declined, offering them back to our parents, who of course also declined, thereby leaving us with that coveted drumstick or mouth-watering piece of beef tendon. Why the merry-go-round when in the end, the kids get to eat the favored parts anyway? To teach us to always offer something -- whether our service, time, or the premium portion -- to our elders. To instill the value of deference, to show that we respect what they like and, as we leave our childhood behind, we watch as the elders graciously learn to accept our offerings. We then play the same merry-go-round with our own children.

The way my Papa treated his mother and his childhood nanny (my Amah and Apo, respectively) were perhaps the greatest examples of filial piety I encountered as a child. His attitude certainly made a deep and lasting impression. He was the fifth among six siblings, one of three boys, and the preferred charge of Apo, who spoiled him and taught my mother all her secret recipes for his childhood favorites. These dishes were prepared with immense natural talent and love by an illiterate person, and the precious recipes have since been passed on to me, painstakingly written down by my mother from observation and memory. Apo joined my Amah's household as a young girl, and typical of the heart-breaking separation stories of that time, she has no recollection whatsoever of her own family, her date of birth or real name, and my Amah's family became her own.

As Amah grew older and more intractable, Papa's patience in dealing with her increased by leaps and bounds. He would go through traffic to pick her and Apo up from the unsavory area around the pier because she preferred to travel by sea. He, along with his siblings, would take her out to eat at least once a week, and listen to her stories while indulging her love of mahjong and smoking. He brought me with him when travelling with her to Hong Kong, because she was stubborn and impatient and would suddenly walk off and veer away from everyone, and he needed someone quick and spry to catch up to her. Eventually I was tasked to be her chaperone, and despite my poor grasp of Hokkien, we managed to enjoy ourselves and I managed to bring her home safe and sound.

Papa took care not only of Amah's needs but Apo's as well, taking her to see the doctor, checking up on her, keeping her company and arranging her funeral when she eventually passed away. Her ashes are in my family's columbarium space, because in that way she will always be remembered, visited and honored, a cherished part of our clan. She never married and treated us all like her own grandchildren.

Today Papa is the ripe old age of 75, strong in bearing but slow in walking, hard of hearing yet still mentally sharp. He pushes his arthritic older brother's heavy wheelchair whenever they eat out at the mall, despite his own decreased pace and energy level.

These everyday examples of deep-seated love and respect for elders is something I witnessed and experienced firsthand, and it is second nature for me to take older people's hands and place them on my temple as a sign of greeting, to acknowledge parents of friends old or new, to offer the best and most comfortable seats to the elderly, whether strangers or not; to help open doors, carry packages, support the wobbly senior crossing the street or getting in and out of a bus.

For my husband and I, supporting and caring for our parents and elderly relatives as they age, whether physically, financially or emotionally, is a non-negotiable, “no arguments please” fact of life. We will do it gladly, openly and generously, as they have done for their family members before them.

My kids, however, are growing up in twenty-first century Hong Kong, a bustling, pressure-cooker metropolis, which, like most cities in this day and age, is beset with modern-day ills. Without their grandparents or elderly relatives constantly surrounding them, I know as parents we have to double up our efforts and impress in them how crucial this virtue is, as a way of maintaining harmony and balance in society, as the transformative power that smoothens out the rough edges of family life, and to complete the circle of give and take. I strongly believe that an atmosphere of mutual respect and consideration prevents many a family's contentious debates.

When my modern-day kids do simple things such as follow their grandparents around to make sure they don't lose their balance and fall, hold their arms as they cross the street or climb the stairs, offer them something to drink, get their meals at a buffet line, give them priority seating, listen to their stories, no matter how boring or bizarre; when they show respect for elderly strangers, or tell us how they will care for us when they reach adulthood, I know we have taught them well. When my young son carefully and lovingly placed a basket of flowers at the gravesite of my Amah, someone he never met, and deferentially bowed his head, sitting patiently under the scorching sun while the adults said their prayers, I know there is hope yet. Hope that filial piety, this bedrock of society, this seemingly alien concept for a lot of youngsters nowadays, will eventually become second skin—as natural as breathing, as important as eating, as essential as drinking.

Children of Cities

You've heard of the Coriolis effect; how the direction water that flows in is different in the Northern and Southern hemispheres. I experienced something far more interesting when taking my first wayward steps from West to East.

When I left England in 2008 I was parting from my parents physically (leaving my mother sobbing at the terminal gate of Heathrow) but remained dependant on them financially. The new friends I would start to make in Hong Kong, on the other hand, seemed to be getting a raw deal; They were expected to knuckle-down in office jobs and give money to their parents.

Support, it seemed to me, was flowing backwards.

This would have been something I put to the back of my mind, but it began taking up a bigger and bigger part of my life when I fell in love with a Chinese girl. When the time came and we decided to marry I found that I was expected to ask for her parents' permission, rather than just informing them as we had done with my own parents. Then, shortly after the wedding, it dawned on me that my commitments to her had also extended to her family - as if I had read them vows, and given them rings.

One resulting obligation came as quite a nasty surprise. On one occasion my mother back in England felt it right to send me some money - whilst my wife felt it right to give her mother some money. This meant, in effect, my mother's money was going to my mother in law!

This kind of lopsidedness surely causes conflict in many bicultural families. I was lucky to have caught on early, but all the same, my parents demanded an explanation.

I had to articulate to them that this was all part of what people were calling Haau Sun (孝順), a set of expectations as to how one treats one's parents. It is commonly translated into the rather stuffy filial piety, which fails to express that Haau Sun is commonly used as a verb. It is something actionable. You do it: You show gratitude and loyalty to your parents throughout your adult life to acknowledge the efforts they put into raising you.

It is all too easy for those of a Western mindset to be left scratching our heads or rolling our eyes when hearing of the term. It all sounds a bit too authoritarian; typical of our stereotypes of Chinese parents as being stringent and pushy to their children.

But Haau Sun is much more than the propaganda of tiger mums: it is deeply embedded in Chinese culture. Confucius, the primordial thinker of Chinese civilization had called it the most important of all virtues, stating that empires would stand or fall based on whether its principles were upheld. Chinese folklore is full of tales extolling its importance, but to Western ears, these tales often sound alien and unethical. Most prominent among these being the tale of the Taoist protection deity Nezha (哪吒), who is known as practically the patron saint of Haau Sun because in his tale he repays his 'debt' to his mother and father by tearing apart his flesh and bones and feeding his parents the meat of his own body!

Or, let's take another story - Ragged Boy Obedient To Mother - and break it into its essential beats:

1. A boy's natural mother dies. In time the father decides to remarry.
2. This new stepmother turns out to be abusive in a number of ways, giving preferential treatment to her own two boys.

Now, perhaps you have already noted the tropes of a good fairy tale and feel that you know the resolution we're steering towards.

Let's see :

3. The good little boy falls to his knees and begs his father to forgive the stepmother.

If you're like me this feels like the wrong ending - But why? What's missing?

The temptation would be to say that justice is missing, and this is to an extent true - Traditionally, duty to one's parents came before fairness. But the classical Western folktales did not really hand out justice either. They revelled in comeuppance. Our own Brothers Grimm would have had the abusive stepmother danced to death in burning metal shoes whilst doves pecked out her children's eyes!

And here, in holding Western culture up to the standards of Haau Sun, do we realise that the Chinese and Western views have fundamentally different starting points. Where Confucius idolized parenthood, our own intellectual forefather, Socrates was wondering aloud whether we should abolish parenthood entirely, and instead teach individuals that they were born from the city itself. Where the stories of the East taught family unity, The Parable of The Prodigal Son instead shows us how a good parent allows their child independence, whilst also providing them dependability. Overwhelmingly our fairy tales (Hansel and Gretel, Cinderella, Snow White…) focus on liberation from the family, - into the woods, into adventure and the company of strangers.

These stories contributed to a mindset that seemed, to me, to be the natural way of things - until one day my wife said :

'The Chinese view might sound strange, but the Western view of parenting is quite sad really. It's like that spider that gets eaten by her own babies.'

This is worth remembering: Where we may feel that a virtue like Haau Sun is strange, to people from other cultures our own status quo can appear selfish, callous and harmful.

Consider, for example, what some in England are calling The Silent Epidemic - Whereupon millions of ageing people, with their mobility increasingly limited, suffer tremendous social isolation as a result of their families moving away from their immediate area. Often with just a television for company, many English seniors suffer from depression and anxiety. This has a measurable impact on their wellbeing, and although certain charities aim to offer social support, these are the exceptions that prove the rule.

Somewhat ironically, Western individualism might not be the best thing for us as individuals either.
The blogger Tim Urban calculated that by the time an individual in America leaves high school they have already spent 93% of the time they will ever spend with their parents . Yes, this lifestyle has granted us freedom - but often the true cost of this freedom is only made apparent to us when we are hit by hardship and tragedy.

A friend of mine, another proud migrant, was unable to fly back to England when his mother fell ill. Instead, his family brought a computer into her hospital ward and my friend watched his mother's final moments over a faulty Skype call.

The heartbreaking poignancy of this image seems to me the perfect crystallization of our conflicted mindset: A simultaneous, impossible urge for both independence and dependence; Part of us saying - 'I have to leave you, but please stay with me.'

In keeping families close filial piety neatly remedies these blind spots. It's also worth remembering that in the entire planet, Hong Kong is the territory with the highest life expectancy and it would be glib to ignore the role Haau Sun and family unity play in this.

But it would also be dauntlessly naive to assume that Hong Kong's traditional values are not threatened by a new set of priorities. In fact, the change is already underway. It might be no exaggeration to say that the gap between this generation and the last demonstrates the greatest shift in attitude Hong Kong has ever seen: To my parent-in-law's generation, it was practically unthinkable to live away from your elders, practically sinful to disobey them. But increasingly the youth of Hong Kong are choosing personal liberty over familial duty.

Today Hong Kong's iconic skyline, its streets, and sprawling shopping centres wear no hint of classical Chinese values. Instead they proudly broadcast the ideals of The City - Corporatism, Consumerism, and Individualism - Beneath these giants inconvenient ideas like 'duty' become unfashionable and are squeezed into the margins; Haau Sun, once the root of all virtue ', has been reduced to token gestures - taking parents out for meals on weekends - Sacrificing no more than a little money and a timeslot on an otherwise busy schedule.

Even my own parents have come to see the sadness in this. It required a reversal of thought on their part, but they ultimately came to empathise with the Chinese view, and as a family, we have taken away lessons from it: We no longer shy from the grim reality that our time together is limited - Instead we accept the fact and plan accordingly. Our connection is perhaps stronger than ever.

And now I have sons of my own I will tell them that they are not rootless, and that it's in their own best interest to treat their foundations with care because these foundations are an integral part of them as individuals.

Not because of lofty concepts like 'duty', or 'obligation'.

But because it offers us all a happier way of living.
 

Grave Sweeping Day

On our way back to Jakarta, we have stopped at a shabby hawker centre to wait out the daily tropical thunderstorm.

My cousins from Jakarta are busy helping themselves to a bowl of rujak fruit salad. Mum and her younger brother are chatting animatedly in Bahasa Indonesia, an alien tongue to me. It has been a long day in every sense of the word. I am beginning to feel a nagging pain in my head, which makes me wonder why I have initiated coming here to sweep Grandpa’s grave.

I have met Grandpa only once, in Hong Kong. To my scrawny little self, he was a towering figure. He spoke in Hokkien and Mandarin, so back then we could not really talk. The only other thing I can remember from his visit is that he patted my head approvingly after I had bought him a KCRC train ticket from a machine.

Mum used to visit Grandpa in Jakarta every year. I was never allowed to accompany her, out of health and safety concerns. The city has always had a special place in her heart. Hardly a week would go by without her sharing with me a fond anecdote or two.

Grandpa had followed the footsteps of his peers to Southeast Asia in search of better fortunes. Mum and Uncle grew up in Jakarta during its heyday. Grandma had passed away when they were small, and Grandpa occupied himself with his budding business. He was not a doting father, as he had flatly refused Mum’s plea for ballet lessons and pets in spite of the minimal costs. It did not take long for the siblings to become more fluent in Bahasa than in their native Hokkien, and acquire from their housemaids a taste for spicy local food and Bollywood movies.

In the wake of Indonesia’s political turmoil and xenophobic movement, Grandpa sent Mum, then a teenage girl, to their relatives in Fujian province, but kept Uncle with him. That decision sealed the family’s fate of separation, but never severed their bonds.

Fast-forward to 1998. In the midst of the worst unrest in Indonesia in decades, Grandpa was taken critically ill with cancer. Mum adamantly flew there. I was too young to worry much. Later, she recounted how the capital’s international airport seemed abandoned. Somehow she managed to get a taxi. The ethnic Indonesian driver took her to the hospital through deserted streets, but she felt an unspeakable sense of peace, as if Grandpa was there protecting her. She came home to Hong Kong safely, but this time, there was none of the usual satay, kueh sweets or locally-harvested swallow’s nest that Grandpa used to source for us. That was the last time she saw Grandpa.

A few years after I had graduated from university, my nurtured curiosity about the country materialized into a plan to visit Bali, Borobudur and Jakarta, where it all began. As the trip was to take place in spring, I casually suggested to Mum that we take a detour to Grandpa’s grave in Bogor. I had not the faintest idea what prompted me to say that. Needless to say, the offer was more than readily accepted. Mum had that in her mind all the time, but the problem was, neither she nor Uncle knew the exact location of the grave.

Numerous phone calls to distant relatives had paid off and we tagged along their grave sweeping outing. It was a two-hour drive from the capital. Urban bustle gradually gave way to sun-blessed vegetation and lush paddy fields. To the eye of the city dweller, these are all novelties beyond words.

The cemetery on the hills was mainly for the Chinese. Our cars meandered upwards until there was no road ahead. We then trudged on with our offerings in the sweltering heat. Banana trees were here and there, but they were no shelter against the merciless sun. It had felt like a hike on a midsummer’s day, until our relatives pointed Grandpa’s grey stone grave to us. His name was engraved in Chinese on the headstone.

‘I’ve come to see you, Pa,’ wailed Mum in Hokkien.

Before I knew it, she was down on her knees. Tears came rolling down her cheeks. She beat her chest a few times at the height of her sorrows. I did not see this coming at all. From the others’ faces, I knew that they were completely taken aback as well. We all froze and were not sure what to do.

‘I’m so sorry that I didn’t take care of you. I wasn’t there by your side when you left us,’ continued Mum. She said other things in Hokkien which I did not understand.

‘Your granddaughter has come to see you too.’ Mum beckoned and I knelt down next to her.

‘I’ve come to see you, Grandpa.’ I was at a loss for the right thing to say, so I echoed Mum’s words.

It was a good five or ten minutes before Mum finally calmed down. Still sobbing and blowing her nose, she cleared away the branches and leaves that were on Grandpa’s grave. Following her orders, we laid out the offerings ranging from fruits, meat, sweets, to of course, faux money and paper-made servants. We lighted joss sticks and properly paid our respects. It was then our turn to eat. In the shock of the moment, I had forgotten how famished I was.

If not for what had happened, it would have resembled a family picnic. While we tucked into the chicken, Uncle teased Mum for being melodramatic. Cousin said that she was touched, besides shocked, to witness Mum’s outburst, but I suspect her surprise much outweighed other sentiments.

Before leaving, we were introduced to the cemetery keepers. Mum gave them money and earnestly asked them to take good care of Grandpa’s grave. Not knowing when she would get to visit again, that was the best she could do.

Now as I sit in a corner of the hawker centre and listen to the subsiding rain, all of a sudden I can see with clarity Mum’s regrets which will be for the rest of her life. It hurts to know that however much she misses Grandpa, he is no longer around.

And it dawns on me why I have come here. Life has come full circle in its miraculous way. It is meant to be.

Trust

I have found my dad in a box.

There he lays, with a serenity that I have never imagined in my years pondering this elusive figure, this shrouded enigma ...

My dad.

Now, as I peer down at my father's face, I am afforded some minutes to wander the imaginary path to my own childhood, marked by a striking absence of children's fuzzy, squishy toys, or the typical bounteous feasts on display during festivals. My dad lived with us, but this arrangement had its drawbacks: With each other, my parents were bitter, brash and accusatory. But then it happened. One day – I believe I had just started kindergarten – our flat became mercifully quiet, but father's absence was loud and clear. He was gone.

From that time onwards, it was my mother who filled the hours with her secure presence, while my father only popped in unannounced. His visits – and I now believe were solely to see me - were brief. My world became my mother, someone who could unleash an almighty fury that rendered me powerless. Still, I was able to bask in her unconditional, rational sensibilities. And I had a roof over me, allowing me the most pleasant sleeps, and dream worlds where I, an intrepid prince, overpowered predatory ogres with a solicitous slice of my gleaming sword.

I examine my elderly father's weatherworn wrinkly features, and I allow myself to look back on the happier, tender times with my father, but they are scant – a grand total of three. As the first of these notable vignettes eases its way into my mind, I embrace it.

***

It was a Sunday in our single-roomed government flat stuffed floor to ceiling with mold-laden footwear, caved-in containers, and mounds of pre-laundered clothes located on shelves along the dingy, dove-emblazoned, papered walls. Light was flickering dimly, making a clearer, more perceptible view of the clutter impossible, which proved to be a blessing in disguise.

It was my fifth birthday and my father had showed up. He sat on the kitchen chair, leaning towards me, a small figure dutifully propped on the bed, awaiting the undeniable pleasures brought about by the contents of a can of sardines – the variety smothered in oil and rich tomato sauce. I waited as my father tugged on the tab – 'THWUCK' – and then, with the precision of an accomplished watch-maker, scooped out a generous teaspoonful of sardines, set it on a piece of crusty bread, and placed it in my eager hand.

'For you. Be careful! This one's got chili,' he whispered at a level to ensure the chosen words would not wriggle their way into my mother's ears.

I hesitated. 'Chili?'

'Yes, chili. It's hot, but it's the best. Trust me.' With these words he chuckled gently, like an elf sharing a silly secret with his best friend.

The morsel of bread and heap of spicy fish now sat in my mouth, with taste buds poised to accept or reject the introduction. Suddenly, a fiery burning sensation burst forward, causing my breath to cut off. With tears streaming down both cheeks, and in an attempt at self-preservation, I swallowed it all in one giant gulp.

Dad's eyes twinkled, 'Nice?'

'Yes.' I muttered.

'Want some more?'

'Yes.' I whispered, wiping away the tears. Something in my sparse answer sent my father into howls of laughter.

***

Shuffling footsteps behind me. A nondescript apparition scuttles away into the remote shadows. I steal glances at the mildewed concrete walls and observe a rusty liquid oozing out of cracks – an image that shares a remarkable likeness to that of an injured soldier's leg with its gashes and gaping punctures. Here in this underpass linking the Grand Valley Racecourse with Lau Yin Street, peculiarly, my father seems at peace in his cardboard box.

As I wait, the memory of another of my father's visits makes a subtle entrance.

***

I, then six, was sitting at the table in my home, poring over one of the three comic books which had been given to me by the neighbor's son, Bryan, who had long ago outgrown them, and determined early on that they weren't worth collecting. The pages were flimsy and fragile, and delicacy was required in their handling.

My father, I remember, was standing in front of me, listening attentively as I read aloud the words on the faded pages: 'We'll now answer the thousands of requests about what Gok-Jai's rings can really do. First, this is the Sun Scintillator, and this, the Duplicate Disintegrator. Here is the Eco-Blast Equalizer, and here …'

Suddenly, the book was yanked unceremoniously from my hands. My mother stood defiantly, taking on the intimidating shape of our monolithic 'Tower of the Emperor' – that single Banyan tree I and other urchins often clambered upon in the estate playground at the base of our building.

'Stop this nonsense!' Her harsh tone made me wince. 'It's dinner time now, and the boy has to eat.' She did, however, display her characteristic decency and tucked the book carefully next to the pillow on my bed.

My father, seemingly deflated, peered hard into my eyes, for the message was not lost on him: His visit had come to an end. He put his face close to mine, saying, 'You've got a powerful voice. One day, you'll speak and others will listen. Trust me.'

I looked at him, and then over at the comic book settled neatly on my bed, and nodded in dutiful agreement.

***

I appreciate this cardboard box, a barrier from the biting elements of an unseasonably cold spring. No cost. No mortgage. No taxes. On one side, it boldly declares 'THIS SIDE UP: PERISHABLE PRODUCTS' I wonder what goods have so generously given up their coveted position inside, unwittingly providing a welcomed respite for my father in this draughty thoroughfare.

I remember a summer when hot-air system had engulfed the city in a blanket of sweltering heat. My father was with me once again in a memory about ice …

***

My dad and I, a gangly eight-year-old, had just been to the park. We were pulling open the cracked, yellowed, glass door of the Chick Chick Café. Inside, I begged for a cola and that was what I got. "For you ..." my dad said, handing me the coldest paper cup I had ever held in my life thus far. Peering under the plastic lid, I was fascinated.

"Dad,” I began, as we strolled along the heat-soaked pavement.

"Yes.”

"Why are these called ice cubes? I mean, they're not cubes at all. Look! Cubes contain six equal squares. These sides aren't equal. The edges are actually rounded and uneven ...,” my voice trailed off as I ingested this peculiarity.

"You're right, son.” In his utterance, I could hear my father's pride. "When I was a boy, my father taught me that reflecting on whatever's around you was the noblest method of learning wisdom. The art of observing and then reflecting will take you far in life. Trust me.”

Such profound words sounded quite right. I nodded but was more intent on slurping up the splendid goodness of cola.

***

Then my dad simply disappeared from my life. At the time, it seemed inconsequential. After all, I had rarely seen him, and secondly, I was striving conscientiously for excellence in my academic pursuits. Through scholarships, bursaries and perseverance, I managed to gain my PhD, developing a keen interest in the field of computational linguistics.

Despite my notable prowess in academia, I realized that whatever understanding I had of my father was achingly limited, narrow and restricted. It became a ravenous, wormlike obsession that niggled incessantly into my comfort-blanketed world.

As I squat down on the barren concrete next to this box, I can't believe that, after appealing to social services, sifting through government data on missing persons, and scouring streets in unsavoury neighbourhoods, I have found him. Just two days ago, my initial euphoria morphed into bewilderment when I uncovered the truth: my father was an indigent who existed on the periphery of a society that didn't seem to care anymore. His address was Permanent Skid Row. His title? A Homeless Man.

Suddenly, Dad's eyes spring open, and we spend a few seconds searching - with uncertainty - into the weary windows of each other's soul.

Time has nowhere to go.

Finally, right there, the decrepitness of a tired, sagging cardboard box peels away, my childhood vestiges flutter off to some disused wayside, and each hour of searching, delving, and querying makes its own hasty retreat into the sunless, moonless recesses of the underpass walls.

'Dad, it's me.' I'm barely audible.

'Hi son. So nice to see you.' His brown eyes well with tears, and he blinks in a successful attempt to remove them.

"I'm here for you now, Dad.” And then, I take ownership of the two words that I heard on three indelible occasions while in the company of my loving father: "Trust me.”

One can judge the cultural maturity of the society by the way it treats its elders. Just reminisce your school days as a toddler and you can still hear the echo of your favourite teacher saying, "Respect your parents, teachers and elders" ever and anon. Every culture is rife with parables organically capturing how the virtue of filial respect is so significant for every generation and how profoundly it establishes affectionate bonds between different generations. The Chinese stories of "The Twenty Four filial exemplars" are extremely influential in imparting moral values expected of an ideal offspring or a student. One of my favourite stories comes from Indian Mythology. Karthikeya challenged his brother Ganesha to a race around the world. While Karthikeya zapped on his mount Peacock, Ganesha simply encircled his Parents and won the race. When Karthikeya objected, Ganesha calmly explained, “Brother while you were going around ‘The World’, I was going around ‘My World’."

Every righteous person tacitly acknowledges the contributions of their elders. Even while the world deified Sir Isaac Newton for his remarkable achievements, Sir Isaac Newton himself was more humble in acknowledging his predecessors when he commented, "If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants."

Yet a quick show of hands survey on "How we treat our elders" will immediately make it evident that how critical we are of world today corroborating specious belief that the current generation has lost respect for its elders. However I'm convinced that this is simply cynicism regarding today's world. We only have to look in the eyes of our own children and grandchildren to see that how much they love us. I am not denying the existence of ungrateful selfish persons, but they are rather exceptions and sometimes victims of their own circumstances. Even two thousand years ago, Plato chided the insolent kids in the following quote:

"The children now love luxury; they have bad manners, contempt for authority; they show disrespect for elders and love chatter in place of exercise. They contradict their parents, chatter before company, gobble up dainties at the table, cross their legs, and tyrannize their teachers."

The legitimacy of this quote may be debatable however I am assertive that, since ancient time, cynicism in society has been just as prevalent in this world as has been love. I have mostly met people who love and respect their elders. One of the most lucid evidence of this respect is found in most unexpected way. When people want to be offensive they hurl profanities at their rival's ancestors knowing fully well that it will hurt them emotionally. Therefore while I do religiously believe in the virtue of respecting elders and I will accentuate on its significance, I will do it without knocking the youth off their perch.

Providing reasons for why we should love and respect our elders are just as banal as providing reasons for why we should eat. When we are born we are only able to breath like any other animal. However parents with affection and patience teach us how to eat, talk, walk, dress, and even to express our own inner feelings. Later this ability to feel is what we stakes claim to as our individuality. Our elders and teachers endow us various skills that are not only essential for us to survive but also enable us to grasp the world in its full spectrum. We understand the cultural, political, economic, scientific, and technological aspects of this world only under their aegis. Obviously sometimes our elders are stern with us and punish us if we veer away from the right path, but even then their love for us is guiding their actions. We must always remember the proverb from the bible, - Let the righteous smite me in kindness; it shall be excellent oil for my head".

Our social order is more than a random process. It encapsulates millions of years of evolutionary imprint of what we are. The reason we have evolved into a sentient and sapient species is that we have been living in the social units of families and communities. Our current knowledge has culverted through the channels of each generation. We learn from their experiences, theirs successes and failures, and even from abstract beliefs they hold like religion. The wisdom and teaching traditions honed by ancestors cannot be marginalized. Their wisdom provides the bedrock on which we build for our own future generations. The implicit statute of filial respect is what has cemented this unabridged chain of life skills.

Our generation is also just one link in that incessant chain. When we show respect to our elders and teachers, this probity is transferred to our next generation. We will be rewarded with respect from our young for the respect we show to our elders. Still let me not turn love into barter for love. There are more beatifying aspects of loving your parents. Think of all the times you were down and you sought comfort in your mother’s lap, of all the times when your dad was your hero, and your grandparents were story jukeboxes. These blissful moments embellish our life with meaning, which is otherwise just a breathing and eating automaton. Our elders love and support keeps us sanguine.

We cannot express gratitude for the love, support and learning we have received from our elders with even expressively bardic poem. Therefore reciprocating their love, obeying them, listening to them, and caring for them are the only ways to acknowledge their sacrifices. When we care for them in their old age we are actually thanking them for their blessings that enabled us carry forward their legacy. Our parents, elders, and teachers are extension of our own personalities encapsulated into different bodies. They share our joys and griefs. To not respect them is to disrespect ourselves. Our elders are like upstream river, which continuously enrich us with fresh water, lest we become stale. We are simply middle course of the river, which will pass on all the learnings and morality that we receive from our elders to our downstream younger generation. It is therefore our obligation to love and respect our elders, so that this sacrosanct virtue also percolates down to our children.
To love your ancestors is natural human character. A parents’ unconditional love towards their children is natural because of biological evolution. The offsprings serve as a genetic conduit ensuring the continuity of species along with its collective consciousness throughout the epoch. Conversely, several evolutionary psychologists argue that children love for their parents is also innate through natural selection. Psychologists argue that children, who love and take care of their parents, are expected to do better than the children who do not. The virtue of love and care for their parents is transferred to their children, thereby building an affectionate family support system providing them with greater resources. Hence continued tendency of children to love their parents, generation after generation will be selected and spread throughout the population.

I may be accused of committing a scientific harakiri on an emotion as beautiful as love. I am only trying to bring home that love and obedience for parents is just as natural for human species as it is natural for elephants to follow the Matriarch through their own evolution. Human beings’ ability to live in families, communities, and nations is not imposed on them by some foreign agent but has come through thousands of years of evolution and survival technique. It is therefore important that we do not shake the pillars of traditions and accepted behaviour as these are foundations over which our civilization and culture has been built. Thus to disrespect your elders is inhuman.

Family is the closest social order that any person associates with, as well as his first bastion of support. Life is ephemeral and one day we would be pining for the departed souls of our elders. Notwithstanding our myriad beliefs on afterlife, we can patently make our lives better by creating euphoric memories of our elders. The most obvious path to that is by loving, respecting and caring for them.

A Question of Piety

"Mom, it seems you've got it all figured out with having seven children. Once everyone starts working, we would each give you money, then you and Dad don't need to work and you can retire comfortably."
I remember once saying this, ten odd years ago; the year before I got married. When I mentioned this incident to my husband a few years later, his response came as a shock to me: "You give your parents money??? Why would you DO that? Did they ask for it? Do they need it? What's it for? And you give them money EVERY month?"

I felt confused. Why do I have to defend my actions? Isn't giving money to one's parents something one does by default? Situations like this emphasized how the Chinese culture and values are probably more ingrained in me than I imagined.

This is significant because my parents' union was, to some extent, due to their own rebellion against the customs and traditions of their Chinese heritage and upbringing. The roles they were expected to fill had left them feeling dissatisfied and empty. There had to be more to life than simply being a dutiful son or daughter, marrying the "right" person so that you will bring honour to your family, and working at a respectable job so that you could provide for your family and instil the same values into your own children, thus ensuring that they would continue the cycle.

In their search of a more meaningful life, my parents had found a new religion. The religion of the gweilos. Christianity. And living the way the Early Christians did in the New Testament's Book of Acts. Thus, my parents broke away from the traditional norms and, with like-minded friends, tried out a more bohemian lifestyle.

My grandparents were shocked. Especially when they learned that I was on the way. My mother was only 19. My paternal grandparents made an effort to reach out and "fix" this error. My maternal grandparents demanded a proper banquet and sponsorship of a specified number of tables – something that my paternal grandparents could not afford. Mom didn't care; she wouldn't have any of it. She didn't want a traditional Chinese wedding. She wanted to live her life the way she wanted, finding spiritual fulfilment in learning about a loving God who did not expect her to be bound by traditions.

Thus I was born out of wedlock. As was my sister after me. My grandparents on both sides were horrified. When my mother reached the legal age to be married without parental consent, she and my father obtained a marriage certificate, much to their families' relief. A few years later, we moved out of Hong Kong and lived in various countries around Asia.

It was a life of adventure, unbounded by the traditions that once held my parents down. They were free to live and raise their children the way they wanted. My sisters and I were brought up in the Christian faith, ignorant of the customary Chinese religions of Taoism and Buddhism, and blissfully unaware of the Asian mentality behind certain practices of "respect".

To many locals in Hong Kong, Christianity is a "western" religion which challenges "Chinese" practices of filial piety. It is a frequent cause of conflict between Chinese Christians and their Taoist/Buddhist-practicing relatives, resulting in the more traditional family members resenting Christian notions as a threat to the foundations of Chinese culture and therefore not compatible with Chinese values.

When my maternal grandfather (公公) passed away, a proper Chinese funeral was prepared, with the burning of incense and Hell money; chanting by priests and professional mourners; brass instruments clanging; kow-towing and a cremation. Returning to Hong Kong for the ceremony, my parents initially objected to participating in what they considered "heathen practices", claiming that it went against their Christian beliefs. Nevertheless, to avoid strife, they conceded to partaking in some, though not all, of the rituals.

By then, my mother's siblings already regarded her as the "least traditional" of them and were used to her apparent lack of social awareness or observance of Chinese norms which spilled onto us, her children. This suddenly became an issue for my mother. To compensate for our apparent "ignorance" of all things Chinese, including the language and its customs, we returned to Hong Kong and were enrolled in local, Chinese-speaking schools. It was our biggest challenge yet. We not only had to learn a new language, but also a new way of behaviour and thinking. Somehow, though, we adapted. We quickly grasped the ideologies of Chinese values and understood the importance of honouring one's family.

As my understanding of the significance of reverencing or showing respect to one's ancestors and departed loved ones grew, so did my confusion as to why it is often shunned by many Christians as "idol or ancestor worship". This question was further accentuated following marriage to my very traditional Catholic Polish husband. I discovered that filial piety is not something exclusive to Asians; and Christian practices and beliefs do not necessarily clash with Chinese values. Indeed, our cross-cultural, interracial union only emphasized how similar Polish and Chinese customs were.

For example, it is customary for Poles, when visiting the family cemetery, to light special candle lanterns, add fresh flowers and say prayers and respectful words at the tombstones of the dearly departed. Was this not similar to the Chinese custom of grave-sweeping? And how is it that Westerners are often dismissed as not knowing the meaning of filial piety, when this Christian culture practiced such similar ways of venerating the dead?

Of course, the practices and concepts of family respect cannot simply be generalised to venerating one's ancestors. Indeed, there will always be examples of filial piety from both sides that I have yet to understand.
For example, my parents-in-law expect my husband to call or email them with a daily report on his life, regardless of the mundanity of that day. I realised this was a Polish thing when I met other Asian women who had Polish husbands and we expressed bafflement that a grown man had to call his mother regularly and talk for more than half an hour – or two hours, if the day deviated from the usual schedule – about the events of the day.

In pre-Skype times, when international calling cards were costly, calls were reserved for weekends, and daily emails were expected. My husband considered it his filial duty to make these daily communications. He didn't always enjoy them. Once, around mid-afternoon, he received an email from his mother, demanding to know whether he was so ill that he could not send even a short line to confirm his existence.
The whole business was a far cry from my parents' expectations.

The first time I travelled independently, my parents needed exactly two calls from me. One to tell them that I had arrived safely at my destination; and one to tell them that I was returning to Hong Kong. I was eighteen at the time.

My husband, nearly 40, is still expected to call his parents every single day. The first time I visited my parents-in-law in Poland, they suggested I call my parents about my safe arrival. I meekly obliged.

"Hi, Mom," I greeted.

"Is something wrong?" Mom asked.

"Um, no. Just calling to say I'm in Poland."

"Oh, okay..."

I could imagine Mom wondering why I would be calling to tell her something that she already knew. And whether there was some sort of emergency.

"So, I guess I'll see you when I get back." I said.

"Oh, okay. Um, have fun," said Mom, ending the call.

"That's it?" my in-laws demanded.

"Yeah," I shrugged. I felt duty-bound to explain that even though we don't talk for hours on the phone, we still loved each other very much and that not calling my parents every day did not mean that I was a bad daughter.

The more I engage in discussions of filial piety with people from different walks of life, the more I have come to realise that, while it is considered a very "Chinese" thing, it is nevertheless prevalent through all cultures – some more so than others. And while Asians may have a prescribed code of conduct and behaviour in expressing one's loyalty to family, it does not mean that Westerners, in their various expressions of affection, do not also encompass this trait.

Recently, I discussed the concept of filial piety with my multi-national students. When I mentioned the concept of giving money to one's parents, the more Western students had a reaction very similar to that of my husband's. This sparked a heated debate, as students with Asian backgrounds (including Filipinos and Indians) advocated showing one's gratitude through financial means, regardless of whether one's family needed or asked for monetary support or not. "It's just something you do!" one girl insisted. "Our parents poured all their energies and money into raising us. Of course we should give back to them!"

"We didn't ask to be born!" retorted one Israeli student. "They're supposed to raise and provide for us!"

Further uproar in response to this statement ensued. Observing how passionately these young people involved themselves in this topic, I recalled a Bible verse my sisters and I had been taught when we were young: "Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right. Honor your father and mother; which is the first commandment with promise; That it may be well with you, and you may live long on the earth." Ephesians 6:1-3.

To me, this Christian teaching is what embodies the spirit of filial piety. It is the bridge that harmonizes the varying interpretations of this virtue from the East to the West.

Filial piety, originated from Confucian philosophy, has been a virtue of utmost importance in Chinese culture and a core value underpinning the Chinese community for thousands of years. It is a virtuous disposition of treating parents with affection and respect; revering them and providing support materially to their daily life, taking good care of them, and grieving with great sadness over their death. Filial piety extends beyond conduct, calling for the genuine desire to be pious which is generally manifested as obedience. To conform with this deeply rooted value, people have been instilled with the obligation to be respectful and deferential to parents/seniors and to value peaceful interpersonal relationships over difference in opinions. These amicable attitudes form the backbones of families. As the family unit is the cornerstone of society, it comes as no surprise that the principal of filial piety has been a pillar of the Chinese society, and the traditional mindset of the public is to strive to maintain harmony both in the family and the community as a whole.

Nonetheless, today the society and families suffer in the wake of people’s deteriorating faith in filial piety, leading to contemptuous and unruly manners spreading like an epidemic everywhere. It is not just the elderly in families being treated with such bad attitudes, but so is anyone in the society, including those in authority. It is commonplace for politicians or members of the public to shamelessly hurl insults at government officials/opponents whenever social/political or controversial issues are discussed, leaving no room for respectful and rational discussions. The community is highly polarised and filled with hostility. Social harmony is no longer the norm but has sadly evolved into a far-fetched fancy. In families, parents do not necessarily receive due regard of their children. Rather, stories about abuse or abandonment of aged parents hit the headlines from time to time.

To restore the amiable relationships of our families and society that we have taken pride in for thousands of years, it is of profound significance to rebuild the virtue of filial piety. In this connection, we should understand why the social stance has changed over the years, the constraints people face in fulfilling the filial duty and what can be done to revive the faith and facilitate grown children to shoulder the duty.

Against the backdrop of the British colonial rule, Hong Kong, a predominantly Chinese community was where east met west for circa 150 years, with her people exposed to and assimilated into western culture and values. In particular, the lure of individualism which advocates a free, autonomous and independent self, and that interests of an individual should take precedence over all others overpowers the rest of the many western ideologies. The “self-seeking” proposition of individualism is of such mass appeal that it garners mass support and keeps gaining momentum in Hong Kong.

On the other hand, the eastern virtue of filial piety is losing lustre as the fast-changing society has marginalized many of the traditional values. Reviving any of these principals is seen as something of the old school. Filial reverence is no exception and has lost ground to the luring ideology of individualism. The inherent familial obligations run counter to the western myth of a totally care-free, independent self who cares for nobody. Individualism leads people to disregard interpersonal relationship, which is the very element in dire need nowadays by every family and the society. Its absence explains why a cohesive, harmonious union no longer exists.

Whilst the community does acknowledge and give applause to many different types of virtues or qualities, filial piety seems to be forever overlooked. Stories of self-made men, like how Mr. Li Ka Shing worked his way up to be a tycoon, are often widely publicised. So are those who brave major adversities in life or illnesses; overcome physical constraints to achieve their goals; dare to pursue their dreams at all costs; show generosity to the needy; and contribute selflessly for others’ good, etc. The list can go on and on, yet a filial son or daughter is always bound to be an unsung hero, rarely raising any eyebrows in the public sight. We should never underestimate the powerful role of the media in shaping the social outlook, values and culture. Whilst filial piety completely lacks spotlight in the media, there is no surprise why the younger generation could hardly identify with the principle, let alone aspire to conducting themselves in respectful and obedient manner.

Adding fuel to the fire are the many tremendous practical constraints that tie down a child from supporting his/her parents even he/she has all the genuine desire. Long working hours, high costs of living and housing problems are well-known issues of Hong Kong. Not only does each issue adversely impact people’s well-being, it also knocks on their ability to take care of their parents. Few adults can afford a flat spacious enough to live with their parents. Nuclear families have become such a norm that the number of elderly parents living on their own keeps increasing. Being physically apart would render it even more difficult for the children to take care of seniors’ daily needs. While Hong Kong is blessed with very low unemployment rates, sons/daughters very likely have to work and would not be able to personally attend to their parents. Furthermore, due to the notoriously long working hours, they either cannot spare time after work with the elderly, or are too exhausted and stressed out to show affection and respect to them. Spending enough and/quality time with parents almost becomes mission impossible for a filial son/daughter – the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. A miserable depiction of how practicality issues can paralyse acts of filial piety!

Even more frustrating is when parents are too frail or have lost self-care ability due to old age/illness/physical disabilities, children are often left with no choice but to entrust them to elderly homes which is a taboo in the Chinese community. Notwithstanding that the act is out of all the good intent for seniors’ benefit, it is often wrongly perceived by the receiving end as being belittled or even abandoned. Perception aside, there are reasons for seniors to worry about life in elderly homes as some serious abuse happened in the past to the tenants. Well-run elderly homes are not only hard to come by but also priced beyond the reach of most people.

Parents and children seem to be stuck in a helpless position, yet we should take heart from the fact that things start stacking up on different fronts to restore the virtue of filial piety and/lower some of the practical barriers mentioned above. In terms of the Government policy, taxpayers who support their parents will soon be granted an increase in tax allowance which at least is a good gesture to reward the unsung heroes who shoulder their filial duty. Other measures like the new Higher Old Age Allowances also indirectly help to alleviate financial burden of the children in providing for their parents. In order that seniors with need of long-term care can stay home for as long as circumstances allow, i.e. saving elderly homes as a last resort, the Government is pumping in additional resources to enhance community and home care services. At the same time, the “Home for the Elderly” housing project was introduced years ago to provide life-time rental units for the middle-aged elders whilst the units are spacious enough for children to live in. The Government is also taking steps to scrutinise and subsidize elderly homes to ensure that they maintain a reasonable standard of service.

Apart from the various measures, of equal importance is to revitalize the time-tested virtue of filial piety among the general public. To this end, civil education and support from the media would have a role to play to engage people from all walks of life and of all ages to once again appreciate the beauty and importance of filial reverence as the pillar of both a peaceful family and community. Though possibly a long shot, it is worthy of concerted efforts by the Government and every one of us to do so for the benefit of individuals, families and the society as a whole, for reclaiming our much treasured social harmony, and preserving and handing down the virtue to future generations.

There are things that we do, words that we say, and events that must take place without us really knowing why. The love that an individual has for another is an abstract concept that is as complex as the universe itself, if not more so. When we love, we do things and we say words impulsively, motivated to do so because of this feeling that is love.

We love because it is right, and we love because we were taught to do so. Our parents impart onto us many gifts – treasures – wrapped in lessons and teachings. Of all these gifts, the most important one of all is the gift of love.

When we came into this world and opened our eyes, the first rays of light that we welcomed into our lives were those shone upon us by the loving faces of our parents. How extraordinary it is for a human being to wholeheartedly love, to give themselves fully to someone because of the bond of blood: the bond of a family. We can never truly understand how it is to love until we discover the profound love that our parents have showered us with at birth – the sacrifices they have made, the tears they have shed, and the smiles that have spread across their face, happy to love and be loved.

Throughout my life, I have been questioning as to what “love” truly is. And perhaps the simplest of all answers was in front of my eyes all along; found within the endeavours and sacrifices my father chose to make for his family.

“Above all, they are my family,” my father would say. Through tired eyes and a weary gaze, “they are my family.” Through hardships and sacrifices, they are my family. Through tears, anger, and pain, they are still my family. How much must one go through in order for them to distance themselves from those they call their family? Are there no limitations to the sacrifices we must make? They are our family, yes, but what about ourselves? What about our own wellbeing?

To be able to fully give, no matter what harm or negativity may come upon, must truly be a selfless kind of love. Perhaps to love is to give wholeheartedly? Perhaps to love is to choose the path where your loved one would be given the upper hand, despite the choice pushing you towards an opposite path? Is loving, then, working late hours at night and coming back in the early hours of dawn? Is the definition of it working on days where one should not even be working just to make ends meet? Is it missing your daughter’s birthdays?

My grandparents were part of my father’s life right from the beginning; they were never separated. When my father got married and had a family of his own, he welcomed them into his own home in order to appease their financial situation; they would not have to spend another dime in their lives so long as my father lived. In the beginning, it seemed best, but he did not know the long-term toll it would take on him: we could not afford all the costs. Having three kids, alongside his parents, wife, and helper living underneath his roof, he had to work multiple jobs at one point. Working from noon to dusk, then dusk until dawn, we would rarely see him until the weekend. And, despite being physically present on the days that he was home, he was never really there mentally. It was hard to see him this way – a man torn and almost defeated by the physical limitations of a human being. He wanted to provide for both his own family and his parents, but it was taking a terrible toll on him.

Is this, then, what love is? Putting your family above your own health? I never understood this notion of his. I would ask him if it was worth it, if there was another way – a way in which someone else would take care of his parents instead. To this he would reply, “above all, they are my family.”

Perhaps, then, to love is to give to those who have given to you. Perhaps this feeling is synonymous to a word in which its definition means to pay your dues – dues being the sacrifices made by those who came before us. For if we do so, we then feel gratitude and satisfaction, knowing that those on the receiving end of our sacrifices would feel “love”. Is this then what love is? Is it the feeling you unknowingly feel when you selflessly give someone all that you have, and they are left grateful and satisfied? Are there, however, no limitations to this? How far must one go in giving in order to satisfy the requirements of love? How much must one give?

I am reminded of this significant memory of mine. Late at night when everyone was in bed, I heard my parents speaking to each other in hushed tense tones behind the locked door of their bedroom. As the walls between our rooms were thin, I could hear mere glimpses of their conversation.

“We can’t afford it.”

“I know… but, she’s my mother. What can we do?”

“I don’t know… but we just can’t afford it.”

“No, we can. We just have to find another way to do so.”

“Like what? Where will we get the money from?”

There was a slight pause after this question. Afterwards, my father took a deep breath and said, “ we will liquidate our life insurance.”

To me, at that moment, there was nothing more troubling and concerning than my own parents willing to put the safety net of their own lives on the line in order to send some money to my grandmother for her daily essentials. My parents could no longer afford the expenses they had that they had to find other means of finance and liquidate their own life insurance – something they have invested in and worked hard for. How much does one have to give in order to fulfil their, as my father puts it, “rightful duties” as a son? One may argue that it is proper to repay those who have taken care of you and seen to your growth, but what if the sacrifices made are more than needed? What if I told you that my grandmother did not essentially need the money? Would it still be proper for my father to perform this sacrifice to see to his mother’s appease? Is this, then, what love is?

Love is a strange feeling. It makes us do things that we would not think of doing without any motivation to do so or perhaps if it was never taught nor shown to us.

After all of my father’s hardships, after his endeavours have ended, I believe I found the meaning of love. When my grandmother breathed her last breathe, I saw my father cry for the first time. It was at this moment that I knew what love was. Love was not simply about giving or paying your dues. It was not simply performing the traditional expectations within a family. It was so much more.

Love was knowing that you have the ability to provide and keep safe those who did the same for you. It is knowing that those whom you care for can rely on you for anything. Love is going to bed at night knowing that you have done all you can to provide happiness for those you provided happiness for you. It is showing your appreciation and sharing your blessings – for if it had not been for those who shared with you their blessings initially, you would not have been able to receive all you had at present.

The Power of Filial Piety

Human beings, it is always said, are born for love. And filial piety is an important Chinese value that sustains the power of love. In this essay, we will explore how filial piety holds up a strong bond in the family, and how it helps to develop peace and harmony in society. Practising this virtue is the first step towards love and harmony in the family and society.

Filial piety, without a doubt, is our traditional Chinese value that we, as human beings, should always cherish and embrace. Unfortunately, while we are living in a time of stability and prosperity, people seem to lose sight of what is important in life, as seen from the fact that there are a number of family conflicts in the news every day. Some cases are concerned with parents being intimidated by their children who are in desperate need of money. Even worse, some family tragedies are concerned with elderly people being physically abused by their own family members who regard them nothing more than financial burdens. These elderly people, in order to save face for themselves, have to swallow all pain in silence with no intention to let others know what they suffer. This is sad and heartbreaking. And this makes me ponder on what is the meaning of our existence, the meaning of our life.

First, we need to look back and give some thought to our roots. We were born into the world with parental love and care. We learned to take the first step and say the first word under the caring wings of our parents. They devoted their whole heart to nurturing us and tried their hardest to provide everything we needed. They created a protective shelter where we felt love and warm. When we were kids, nothing seemed to possibly worry us. The family bond was strong and we all sticked closely together. However, when we are getting older, some of us seem to become self-centered and forget all the sacrifice our parents have made for us. We spend most of time and effort in pursuit of individual benefits. Some people focus entirely on their personal success and little priority is given to their aging parents. Even worse, some children distance themselves from their parents, or even refuse to see them, to avoid the responsibility of taking care of them. These children, apparently, lose all sense of consciousness as they forget their roots, where they come from and who they are. They try to deny the fact that they are nothing without their roots and parents. However, one day, they will suffer from deep pain and agony when their conscience is tested to the fullest. The pain of repentance stems from their shame in having mistreated their parents when they were alive. They come to realize that personal success or wealth is only as important as they let it be. It could not bring them long-term happiness, but only lead to a suppressing of their spiritual self. It has to be remembered that family should be the focus of our life. Therefore, it is important for us, as human beings, to cherish and embrace filial piety which has its power to build up a family with love and care.

We should never underestimate the power of filial piety. We need to stand firmly upon the rules of filial piety. For example, we should always love and respect our parents and senior family members. We should always take good care of them and pay attention to their needs no matter what situation we are in. We need to constantly look back on our past and appreciate what they have done for us. When we were kids, our parents created a safe atmosphere where we felt love and warm. And now, it is time for us to do the same and provide a loving shelter where our fragile parents feel safe and secure. Here, it is important to note that our children will learn from our positive behavior and do the same when we are old. Filial piety builds through health and sickness, good times and bad times. This traditional Chinese virtue always exists even during times of trouble and crisis. Bad times, therefore, do not destroy relationships, but only make us strong. Filial piety, as we can see, plays an important role in bringing all family members together. Practising filial piety is the beginning of a beautiful chain reaction which touches the life of everyone around us.

Filial piety is an integral part of Chinese values. It has a significant impact on the family and society. Performing filial piety, to a large extent, helps to develop peace and harmony in our society. In Hong Kong, we often see some senior citizens walking aimlessly from one place to another with no hope in life. And it is also not hard to see some elderly people who still need to toil all day to fend for themselves despite the fact that they have families. Even though we are living in a time of stability and prosperity, some elderly people are abandoned by their own families and become homeless. These poor elderly people are deprived of love and care that they deserve. This is sad and pathetic. This reveals that a lack of filial piety leads to a series of social problems that we should not neglect or ignore.

In order to achieve social harmony and make sure that every senior citizen is well taken care of, we need to cling with tenacity to the practice of filial piety. We need to always look back on our past and show gratitude to our parents for all the sacrifice they made for us. Their love, care and kindness can, and will never be compensated. And therefore it is important for us, as children, to take good care of our parents and senior relatives with deepest appreciation. Their life should be lived with love and respect, not pain and despair. We should always hold onto the practice of filial piety through good times and bad times. If everyone in society performs this Chinese virtue, there will surely be fewer family conflicts and social problems. And this clearly illustrates the constructive power of filial piety. Practising this Chinese virtue is the first step towards harmony in society. Here, as we can see, filial piety has its positive impact on society.

Thus, with a close examination of filial piety, it is clear that this Chinese virtue is an integral and important part of Chinese values. It holds up a strong family bond which keeps every family member together. This, in turns, helps to develop peace and harmony in society. We therefore have to make a great step forward on the path of filial piety and believe that our family and society will be changed for the better.

An Open Letter To My Mother On Filial Piety

Mom, what exactly is filial piety?

I know it must mean something to you, because of the way your nose scrunches up when you talk about a friend’s daughter who doesn’t pay her a monthly stipend at all. Or when your eyes light up after describing our cousin, who happens to give over quite a lot of her monthly income to my aunt.

Yet, you never ask me for a cent. In all these years since I’ve graduated, I have never, ever, heard you request anything financial from me. Could that be because you simply don’t need it? Or want it? After all, you do earn a lot more than I do. Anything I can give is probably small change to you.

Because your facial expressions are sometimes difficult to understand, I think I’ll turn to something more comprehensive. Such as the Internet, one of the millennial’s preferred tools of knowledge. After all, if millions of internet strangers claim the same thing, it must be true.

I go on to Google and type “what is filial piety”, in both English and Chinese. I am not that foolish to rely on an internationalised version of what is so clearly a Chinese tradition. Yet having grown up in an international setting, I have to include the English version as my crutch.

The standard Wikipedia definition tells me that filial piety involves being good to and respecting one’s parents. Such as, to care for them throughout their lifetime out of obedience, reverence, and love.

Our family is Chinese, so I have heard this many times before. Over dinner gatherings, at least one well-meaning relative would remind me to “be pious towards your parents”, as if it were something easily forgotten. My “yes, auntie” was automatic, because what else can you really say. I took that to mean getting good grades so that you could be proud of me, Mom. Or saying “I love you” often, because I really do.

But what does my promise mean to you now?

Maybe a more precise source will shed some light. Opening the “Twenty-Four Paragons of Filial Piety”, it is a classic collection of stories on specific acts of filial piety written over several hundreds of years ago. There is the boy who slept without clothes to allow mosquitos to bite him instead of his parents, or the son who was travelling in the mountains, only to return home to check on his mother, because he felt a pang in his heart when she bit her finger some miles away.

Their devotion to parents is evident, and sacrifice clear. But how much can be replicated today, as I can simply buy some mosquito repellent for you, or even a phone in case of emergencies? This act won’t even come close to the intense itchiness of the boy who would’ve been painfully bitten. Perhaps I need to scratch a little deeper.

How much then, is too much or too little? I look towards the forest of online opinions. For all its commonplace existence in Chinese society, exact guidelines on giving are nowhere to be found. On the more extreme side are writers positing that parents who are anything but loving do not deserve filial piety from the children they mistreat. That being blindly obedient to abusive parents is actually against the very spirit of filial piety.

So, filial piety is reciprocal. By this logic, how much a child should give back depends on how much their parents had given them whilst growing up. Maybe this is the reason for Article 49 of the Chinese constitution, which states a duty of parents to rear and educate their children whilst receiving provisions from the child once they come of age.

By this measure, I can’t even begin to count what you’ve provided for me over the years Mom. From my education to living and food costs, it is a lot. And what about my future children? It will be like paying back both my own education and theirs at the same time.

Now I’m beginning to see why you work so hard, Mom. Even as my parent, you’re also a child to my grandparents. I guess I’ll have to become a parent myself to fully understand what filial piety is. Or keep scrolling through these articles online for now.

Hold on. Filial piety doesn’t appear to stop with just the parent-child relationship. One article tells of the collective action taken through a countywide filial piety fund, which was set up earlier this year in order to cater to the elderly population in several hundred villages in China. Children of elderly parents are encouraged to donate, and with top-ups from private donors and the state.

From my relationship to yours, it is comforting to know that even strangers can donate to help support some of the elderly in need, even those who do not have children. Filial piety is not just about us then. And now that tax season is just around the corner, who can forget how our government supports filial piety through income tax-breaks too.

For all its individual acts of sacrifice, devotion, money and kindness, filial piety also reaches far across society through means of governance, welfare, and of course the well-meaning relatives who remind children to be pious.

Still, all these opinions, definitions, and tales do not tell me exactly what is filial piety to you, Mom.

But I understand now, that anyone anywhere can write their own “paragon” of filial piety as long as they are a child, parent, or both. Even if you don’t really need the money, Mom, I choose to start my paragon this way.

Filial Piety – Personal Reflections and Suggestions

As son

I was born into a very humble family. Dad was a tailor who worked hard to make ends meet. Mum was a happy-go-lucky housewife. She enjoyed eating, playing mahjong, watching movies and left all the household chores to my grandmother. Dad was quiet, stern and rarely showed his love to anyone but I knew deep down he cared a lot about our family and about my studies. He asked mum to take me to an evening tutorial school to improve my English. Mum took advantage of this opportunity to rush me to a theatre nearby immediately after my evening class, and paid something like 30 cents to go in and listen to the theme song towards the end the opera!

There was a sort of hidden and subdued family love among the three of us. My Dad died of liver cancer when I was studying Form 2. He drank and smoked too much. We rarely talked to each other except during supper. I was too young to do anything to help him. There was a physical as well as spiritual gap between us. My Mum died of multiple complications from diabetes about two years after my marriage. On reflections, I could have done more like seeing her more than once a month, giving her a bit more money on top of a monthly sum, and helping her to eat a healthier diet.

As son-in-law

My mother-in-law was a bit like my father – stern, stubborn and authoritarian. She rarely expressed her emotions. Our relationship was good in the early days. She loved playing mahjong and I ‘demonstrated’ my filial piety serving as one of the ‘legs’ – before and after I became her son-in-law! As she was getting older, our relationship was getting worse. We had arguments and even quarrels, sometimes over issues such as the way she handled my daughter (ie her grandchild). To make matters worse, she gradually got dementia. Her condition deteriorated rapidly and eventually she did not speak at all and could not even recognise us, and had to be spoon-fed. Finally, we sent her to an Old People’s Home in Yuen Long because it was not safe to leave her alone at home. I used to drive on weekends to visit her. She died some years later.

As community volunteer

One of my regrets in life is I could have done more to take care of my mum and my mother-in-law, particularly in the last phase of their lives. I was not doing too badly but definitely far from adequate. One main reason I joined AVS (Agency For Volunteer Service) after my retirement is to help the elderly. I have taken part in activities like visiting the oldies, giving out presents like food and fruit. We volunteers sometimes do half-hourly home visits, chat with them, complete a questionnaire and jot down any points which require follow-ups. For me, it is a sort of compensatory measure to psychologically reduce my emotional baggage for my mum and my mother-in-law!

As father

The whole family (me, wife, daughter and son) migrated to New Zealand in 1994. After a couple of years, I returned to Hong Kong to work. My daughter went to US to complete tertiary education while my wife and my son continued to live in NZ. At one stage, our story was a tale of three cities – Auckland, Wisconsin and Hong Kong! Another regret in my life is the long period of separation from my family. I was away from my wife, AND from two children during their adolescent and early adult stages. Fortunately, all of us are now in Hong Kong, and the extended Wong family now includes a son-in-law, a daughter-in-law and a granddaughter. We usually meet once a week for lunch or dinner, sharing all sorts of things, chatting about serious as well as trivial matters. Our granddaughter adds fun and laughter, and plays a significant role in further strengthening the family bond!

Filial piety in the 21st Century

Gone were the days when parents used to have close connections even after their adult children were married. The aging population in HK (and China), which keeps expanding, also means there are more and more old people who live on their own and need special care – physically, mentally and emotionally. A further complication is that most married people nowadays prefer to have either no children or just one child. All of these changes make it very difficult for people to maintain and strengthen family relationships. Below are some suggestions on how we can reconceptualise and revive filial piety in the 21st Century.

Treating children on an equal footing

Parents should not assume they are the figure of authority and their children are obliged to follow their advice and suggestions. Their past experiences may be useful but may also become outdated or irrelevant. They need to treat their children as friends, as equals and offer advice and suggestions but not instructions! They have to look at things from their children’s point of view and should never assume they are always in a position to give sound advice or correct judgment. Only understanding and sympathetic parents can earn respect and love from their children. In other words, filial piety is to be developed and should never be taken for granted.

Bridging the generation gap

A major source of conflict among parents and children is most people make judgment from their own point of view. If parents can look at a situation from the perspective of their children and their children do likewise, there will be less conflict and more harmony. Parents should remember once they were young. Children should also realise they will get old too. Family relationships become more harmonious if the generation gap can be bridged. Everyone should be more objective, takes a step back and looks at a situation from multiple angles. This is an effective way to minimise conflicts and negative feelings.

Using the electronic media as a servant, not a master

Breakthroughs in communication technology have brought about huge benefits – commercially, educationally and socially. However, most things in life are double-edged! When parents and their adult children have yumcha on weekends, it is increasingly common to see each person being glued to their mobile and there are very few chats and verbal exchanges throughout! It is a classic example of misusing the mobile. Instead, we can exploit the mobile and its functions as topics for conversation such as distinguishing between online facts and fiction, such as fun and games, such as sons and daughters teaching parents how to use a new app! Face-to-face communication can never be replaced by electronic gadgets. No emoticons are as meaningful as facial expressions and other forms of body language! At the same time, the Hong Kong Government can exploit the electronic media to promote family ties, eg: making videos of real and touching family stories as well as short and snappy scenes to promote filial piety.

Regularising family occasions

Family time should be quality time. If parents and children work out schedules for family days, they will see each other regularly, not just on special occasions like festivals or birthdays. This is important to maintain the family togetherness. As parents get older, they will have to deal with more and more health-related problems. It is therefore vital for children to see them as often as possible, observe their physical and emotional well-being and provide help if needed. Seeing each other once in a blue moon is totally inadequate in maintaining and enhancing family ties!

Conclusion

It is very sad to learn about, through the press or TV, fueds and legal battles between parents and children, or among children themseleves, over huge sums of inheritance, which happen from time to time in Hong Kong and elsewhere. On the other hand, there are successful people who donate part of their fortune to help the elderly and the needed. If we define filial piety in a broad sense and put it into practice, the world would be a more harmonious and peaceful place to live in. Indeed, filial piety is fundamental in bringing about a better society, a better country, and a better world. When people love and care about their parents, they will do the same to other people, even complete strangers. There will be less conflict and more harmony – at home, in society and even among nations. Indeed, it is a priority virtue among all the Confucian virtues.

Filial Piety First! Filial Piety First! God bless Hong Kong, China, and other parts of the world!

To Be Confiscated By 'The Nation'

‘Madam, your savings transaction has been done.’ The bank teller grins.

‘Thank you!’ I replied, holding a paleo-passbook tightly.

‘Madam, transactions can be done via online banking services conveniently. It is efficient and saves your time for queuing and paying extra costs for the transaction fee.’ The young teller, a Miss Lee as shown on her name tag, had been trying her very best so as to convince me to take her advice solicitously. ‘Well, I am a big fan of Bruno Mars.’ In one second, standing in front of the window, I whispered, ‘Just the way you are!’

The young teller was taken back. ‘Please accept my apology. I was joking. But, I prefer keeping this account in its original style as there’s something behind the scene and that’s irreplaceable.’ I explained to Miss Lee and left the counter in a stride.

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Love from parents is a one-way investment that does not require a return. Holding high hopes for children, parents never intend to seek materialistic returns or show pride. Instead, they wish to grant their beloved ones a bright future, a worry-free life and a permanent fortune. I recall a time, a friend of mine, who idolized Gordan Ramsey, groaned about not receiving support from his mother for his dream to be a chef. It was understood that the conflict upset him, but what was important to keep in mind was that, the lack of support came from ultimate love and care. We are mature enough to realize that, parental love is in various forms, devotion in different forms and the sacrifices made may not even be noticeable. Parents may not be around all the time, but they are always on call. They may not be able to overcome an obstacle we encounter, but they are the biggest cheerleaders who have always have our backs. They may not appreciate our passion and dreams, but soon they are willing to adapt and respect. Parents express their love in different intangible ways, yet, they all mean the same and allow us to know – ‘you mean the entire world to me’.

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Twenty years ago, my mother brought me to this bank a week before my wedding.

“Miss, can you please take out all the deposits from this account?” My mom requested.

“Why, mom?” I was confused.

“You have been asking about your lucky money since you were young, haven’t you? Now, I am going to return it to you. Though this money can’t give you to a prosperous life, I still hope that you can make good use of the money, especially for your family, my little girl. ”

I was moved to tears. Being so thankful, I decided to pass down the family tradition by opening another account. I told myself, I would keep this account. The charm of this account has nothing to do with numbers.

It is a place where love, blessings and care that have been deposited from generation to generation.

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Filial piety is about having a grateful heart to appreciate everything our parents have done for us. Appreciation is not measured in terms of money; filial piety cannot be requested. There is no code to define filial piety, the only rule is that – we should be truehearted. A Thai Beauty Queen, Mint, hit the headlines in 2015. Instead of reporting her victory, the news was about her giving thanks to her mother in the most modest way. Wearing the glittering crown, Mint knelt before her ‘garbage collector’ mother, dedicating the win to the one who raised her. Telling the world proudly that rubbish-collecting was an honest profession, Mint was always proud of her. Some say that filial duty is equivalent to paying parents every month, yet, it is not totally true. The essence is to share what we have with the ones who have been adoring us unconditionally, but not to fulfill an obligation superficially. I recall the time, at the age of 4, I always asked my father to play with me, after he returned home from work. Despite being exhausted, he still ran to hold me in his arms and press a kiss on my cheek. Genuinely, all parents want from us is exactly what we wanted from them when we were babies. Familial love is meant to be sincere and pure.

Is filial piety a repayment? No, it is not, since we can never do enough to compensate our parents for their commitment of offering unfailing care and eternal love. Is filial piety a ritual? No, it is not, calling it a ritual is at odds with the principle of virtue. What we owe to our parents is nothing more than a deep debt of gratitude, for their dedication is selflessly phenomenal. It is time to express our heartfelt thanks to our parents for taking care of us through the nights when we were sick back in the days when we were babies and having forgiven us when we broke their hearts.

‘Honour thy father and thy mother.’ Filial piety, is actually a lecture of a life time. In times, the one who truly understands the true meaning behind the scene, will appreciate and show gratitude to their beloved ones.

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“Kung Hei Fat Choi!” Now, it is my son’s turn to receive red packets. Without a second thought, that chubby cute little boy ran to me and handed me with the red envelopes that he had just received. My friend, whom I have known since I was six, scenting the approach of a jest and said, ‘Oops! All his Lai See are going to be confiscated by the nation!’

In lieu of explaining all the rationales behind, I just smiled radiantly and soliloquized,’ The Nation, is indeed, loving her kids affectionately and more importantly, that love is definitely INEXPLICABLE!