Fathers

I met Trangdai Tranguyen once. All serenity and friendliness, she was stirring a pot of perfectly clear and flavour-rich chicken broth she'd prepared for pho at Sandra's place.

Soon after, I was entranced as I read three slim volumes of her poetry in mostly one night.

This is an excerpt from Daddy's Weekend, a poem in Songs For A Boat Father:

sunup
weekend
you're keyed up running to each room
asking, inviting,
- Get up! Let's go have breakfast!
the five children turn over
all five

The father is also pictured toiling over dinner, pulling a movie from his archive for his children, constantly on the go during the weekend -- highly enthused, sacrificial, pouring love into the lives of his children whom he'd missed for years when he migrated alone from Vietnam to the US.

Such poems that so tenderly portray the translocation trials of refugee families are transformed into the universal with Trangdai's skilled pen.

Certainly it reminds me of my own sacrificial Dad. The way he enrolled us in the best schools where he had to make patient, persistent connections. The opportunities he gave us out of his limited resources, and the times he played with us. He brought me to the library when I was six and I began my lifelong love for books. I think he was the only person who tried to imagine the extraordinarily intense first days of my life in the US, and that humbles and amazes me much.

Our fathers are wonderful and flawed. They are an imperfect but still-shining glimpse of the Father's heart and the God-designed love He placed in the hearts of men for their children.

Wonder! Galaxies & GK Chesterton

Image: Dead Star Creates Celestial Havoc
Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

A friend gave me a book on his intellectual hero, GK Chesterton. I know his poems, but he's like the author and thinker I was waiting to discover! The first chapter I flipped to was titled "Wonder," my favourite concept!

Chesterton, a larger-than-life London journalist who wrote memorably in the early 20th century, said of wonder:

"The function of imagination is... not so much to make wonders facts as to make facts wonders."

"A child of seven is excited by being told that Tommy opened a door and saw a dragon. But a child of five is excited by bein told that Tommy opened a door."

My high-spirited unstoppable nephew Caleb is five. The world is new and wondrous to him, even the littlest things. This early waker popped into my room one morning. I told him my new alarm clock would chime soon. A ho-hum everyday moment? Caleb's eyes widened and his mouth formed a surprised O in the half-light when the tinkling tune began.

One of my best Bible Studies highlighted Jacob and his dream of the stairway to Heaven, with angels ascending and descending on it. (Genesis 28:10-15). It didn't matter that his pillow was a rock and he was a fugitive. Wonder can still be our experience in woeful circumstances. We're alive to possibilities!

In my life, God embedded a special wonder when I was five or six. I was lying on the grass on Fort Canning Hill and suddenly I became aware of stars and infinity in the early evening sky. The Creator of the galaxies is also an intimate God who pursues us in love. We and the cosmos fall down in worship before God.

The Chocolate Factory

Thanks, Sue, for introducing me to The Chocolate Factory when I visited Singapore!

One bite of Laurent Bernard's chocolate tart and it was clear he's gifted. One sip of the hot chocolate and my sister and I were transported to Paris.

We'd loved the hot chocolate (thick, indulgent, intense) and Mont Blanc (pastry of chesnut puree on meringue) from Angelina, a Parisienne-Viennese belle epoque cafe that we popped into after a morning at the Louvre and a summer picnic on its grounds. Perfection!

Create memories, PD reminded us today. My chocolate memories flow from the enjoyment of life and wonderful people.