Taiwan - Zhuqi Market Street, Crossing the Street / The Pocketknife

...and speaking of the older generation, while out snapping photos happened upon this couple walking across the street.  They didn't notice me there but I certainly noticed them, as the older gentleman is my father-in-law.  An amazing man, he grew up as the youngest among eleven siblings, all of them girls.  Had to scrap for survival and to gain an education growing up in Japanese-occupied Formosa but he made it through OK, and apprenticed to become a doctor, studying medical texts in Japanese that he still has on his shelves.  Six children followed, including my wife Chenjean, all of whom prospered either there in Taiwan (her two brothers), or here in the US (her three sisters and herself).  An amazing man who has gained my undying respect.

But it wasn't always that way.  It is the custom for Asian parents to help in a big way when the grandchildren come along...big meaning they come over and stay for months.  This is anathema to the American culture and way of life, but it was what it was so when our first child (Andrew) was born Chenjean's parents flew over to fulfill this very important duty.  Unfortunately, I - very wrongly - resented and resisted their role in our new little family, considering their constant presence an intrusion.  Her mother and I seemed to click, but her father, being extremely close to his daughters, sensed my discomfort and maintained his distance, which only grew wider with time.  For years this dysfunction festered.

Until one day something happened, only because for the first time I made the decision that if things were going to get better it was up to me to change my attitude about things.  The opportunity for this came on two fronts.

One was with a pocket knife.  I carry around one of those small Swiss army knives that has scissors, a fingernail file, a toothpick, some tweezers and, of course, a knife blade.  We were in our kitchen and I pulled the knife out to do something.  He looked at it, amazed, as if he'd never seen such a thing.  He held it in his hand, admiring the variety of functions in spite of its size.  Then an idea struck.

The next day I stopped at a Sears hardware store on my way home from work and bought him one.  When I arrived at the house I gave it to him, still in its little box.  He took the knife out and manipulated its tools with an expression of wonder that he actually owned the object of his fascination from the day before.  He was amazed and profoundly thankful that I'd done this on my own, as Chenjean wasn't home yet from work and didn't even know what I'd planned.  It didn't cost much - something like $10 - but I could tell already that it was reaping intangible benefits far outweighing any financial sacrifice.

The other involved tea.  Chenjean's father customarily made tea for the family every evening, distributing those tiny little cups when it was hot and ready.  I'm sensitive to caffeine (and most other drugs, for that matter) and turned it down when it was passed my way.  Unknowingly I'd offended the cultural sensibilities of this important man in my wife's life, and disrupted a long-held family tradition by not taking part.  But that was going to change.  So the same night I sat down and drank tea like everyone else, holding myself down to three of those little cups.  This I did every night until they returned home.  It wasn't without consequence, however - I lost lots of sleep and was bone-weary most days - but, just as with the knife, well worth it.  After that day our relationship took a 180-degree turn and we were buds for life.

As I think of what happened that day I'm reminded of two Bible concepts: one, that a little love covers a multitude of sins; and two, that what you give in love will reap a hundred-fold return.  That sure happened, as Dad (as he become to me, another acquiescence to Chinese culture) began sending us box after box of clothes just for me!  Couldn't wear much of it, but was reminded with each package how a little bit of love goes a long, long way...