I still remember the day the flood ran over our house.  I was four and my sister was six.  The fragile dam could not stop the furious wave of water so that within a few seconds the small wooden house was buried in the flood.  Holding my hand, with my sister sitting on his back, my father rushed us to a safe place.  Confused and puzzled, I gazed at my father and I asked myself: "I am younger than my sister, but why does my father carry my sister on his back instead of me."  This question became so significant in my life as I grew older.

One day, twenty-five years later, my father and I walked among a crowd of people in Taipei.  All we could see were the never-stopping vehicles.  My father gripped my hand and crossed the road quickly.  Although I had married and become a mother, his concern for me was the same as before.  At that moment, all the doubt I had before was swept away.  I regretted that I had always forgotten the problem that my sister had -- she had the disease of Polio.  All I thought about was that being two years younger than my sister, I should have gotten more attention and better protection.  So the jealousy and the unbalance of my mind concealed to me the fact that my sister had a serious flaw in her health, needy of extra attention.

Recollecting the experience of my faith, I always expected much concern and understanding from other people for my so called weakness, not realizing that they might be weaker than I in faith.  I feel so ashamed for my regret that comes so late.

"Love" is everywhere.  You cannot have it unless you reach out for it.