It's A Beautiful Life

By Wang Ren Yi

The sunset in the snow

You were holding the arm of an elderly man as you passed me at sunset one winter day. As you went by, I was struck by your smile. You were rather shy and quickly shifted your gaze away from me. I stood in the shadow of the house watching you for a long time. After seeing you, that sunset was especially bright and beautiful to me.

I guess you were only about 16 or 17, perhaps even younger. That old man must be your grandfather or your neighbor. Perhaps you have been taking care of him? I don't know. But I do know that when you showed love to those needy old people, you shone with the light of an angel. A light that shines in the universe like the snow glistening on a field at night.

Actually you did not need to feel embarassed. Your life ought to be taken up with sports, the Internet or those sleepless nights young people spend with one another. But because of your love, you were giving your time to the cold winter night, to the snow, to the quiet alley, all for the sake of this old man. You probably did not know that because you were so selflessly bringing warmth into this cold world, you had given me an unforgettable night filled with love and beauty.

How could I not weep at this? While other young people are caught up in the rat-race of this materialistic world, there are you, walking steadily along, keeping an old man company, writing a different kind of chapter to your own life; a chapter filled with poems of undying love.

Good neighbors

I have a group of neighbors who sing their songs to me in the morning and at evening, when I am busy or when I am resting from the busyness of my world. Whenever I hear their singing, I am reminded of the songs my mother used to sing when I was a child. It's so intimate. It's like the warmth of hugging someone. It makes you feel so peaceful. My neighbours are a flock of doves who live under the rafters of my house.

The geese had already flown south when, one snowy day, I stood under my rafters to look for my "neighbors". I wanted to invite them in but could not even speak to them in a way they could understand. I was worried that they might not be able to live through the winter. I worried about them not being able to find any food. I also doubted whether they could survive the cold temperatures. All I could do was to go inside and turn the thermostat of the room up to the highest notch. I thought the higher temperature might possibly be transmitted through the ceiling and into their nests. Hopefully this would be a way of passing on my concern for them.

One sunny spring day, my neighbors' nests stirred and out they flew. They winged their way across the frozen river, the snow-covered forest, and the endless expanse of white fields.

The frozen world, however, did not wish to be disturbed by this small stirring. It wanted to stubbornly hold on to its cold bleakness. But the doves were not put off. They sang in the snowy fields. They whirled in the icy wind as if trying to use their songs of peace to tell this strange world the story of springtime. They described the beauty of the coming greenness, proclaiming a gospel of peace.

I stood at a distance watching them and felt very moved. My dear neighbors, how could you be so joyous after a whole winter with so little to eat? My friends, how can you have so much energy after a long cruel winter? I knew in my heart who was taking care of them, so that they were fed, even when there was no food. After a long winter they were still full of vitality. I knew who it was who gave them the responsibility of proclaiming to the world the news of peace, of awakening the sleeping fields, wiping away the snow in the forest, warming the frozen earth, and bringing spring into the fields, ushering in life, until the world would once more be filled with its vivid greens.

I know Who is the cause of all these.

You and your little dog

You were walking past me with your little dog. But the little dog stopped and tried to jump up on to my lap. I was startled. He stared at me with his bright dark eyes and then turned to look at you, with your rather serious smile.

I knew that at first you felt apologetic, but then when you saw how cute your dog was, you laughed. Your laughter was so bright. You picked up your sweet little dog, ruffled his fur, and kissed him. Then you turned to me and said gently, "Good morning! I'm so sorry."

I was actually fine when you addressed me. I was suddenly so thankful in my heart and it gave me a really good feeling. Why? Because in the eyes of your little dog I saw an instinctive trust and friendliness towards human beings. I saw the warm dependence between human and animal from the intimate interaction between you and your dog. And from that interaction between the two of you I sensed you generously extending friendliness and warmth towards me in this increasingly unfriendly world.

I spoke to you and said I was fine. My mood had changed and I felt good, all because of you and your dog. You had passed on to me the gift of a love that was bestowed long ago upon this ever colder world.

When you walked on, yet turning back to look at me, I seemed to hear a voice, "The world I created was like this: Beautiful!" I seemed to have wandered into the Garden of Eden and seen the world being filled with love and all its beauty.

The author lives in Canada and works in Gospel ministry.