扎根 发芽 生长
一个 两个 几十个
一片 两片 几百片
一朵 两朵 千万朵
把你 我 他
Sunday, Dec 10, 2017
Christmas came early for a special group of children in Calgary.
These children and their families face a set of challenges from Autism to Down Syndrome. Some of them are very gifted in music, art or singing.
It was a joyful event. Every child played games, had a picture taken with Santa, and received a Christmas gift.
Macy Qin, Lynn Huang , and Tom Luo and their families attended this special event on behalf of Hunan Association.
Western Canada Hubei Association and their leaders Linda Xiang, Cliff Huang also generously sponsored this event.
Just coming and seeing the children and knowing the challenges they are facing, so much help they are getting from Chinese community groups , volunteers and individuals, is a very special feeling for all who attended the party on Sunday evening.
Thank you for your generous donations and helping make a difference.
Lynn Huang: $50
Macy Qin: $100
Tom Luo: $150
我们非常荣幸地邀请到老乡，连续5年加拿大大学体育学会羽毛球女子冠军Lynn Huang 义工免费给老乡和小朋友指导和授课，讲述她个人的成功和奋斗经历。拿一届冠军对专业运动员来说也许可以实现，难得是一名女运动员在全职学习期间连续5年获得加拿大全国冠军，这样的拼搏精神非常难能可贵。
We are very pleased to have our member and volunteer, Lynn Huang give free tutoring sessions for members and children in December 2017 and share her inspiring stories as a full time student and an athlete.
Lynn is a five-time provincial (BC) and national women’s singles champion, a US Open Champion in women’s doubles and a China Cup Champion in women’s singles, to name a few.
2014 Sport BC Collegiate Athlete of the Year (Sport BC)
2009 – 2013 Five time Canadian National badminton Singles Champion (Canadian College Athletic Association)
2009 U.S. Open International Woman’s Doubles Champion (Representing Canada)
2018/02/24 星期六 4pm-9pm
同乡会将为大家营造出喜气洋洋的节日气氛。与此同时， 也创造为同乡之间，商企之间交流与服务的机会。欢迎商家赞助，宣传自己的商业服务等。 服务自己的乡亲， 机会难得，抓紧报名！
We offer 20 free tickets (worth $457) to members and children, 5 complimentary tickets for children under 10.
Harvard student Megan remembering her grandma.
It is impossible to summarize the impact that nainai had on my life – what I say is 1/1000th of how important she is to us.
So as a child, my parents were very busy and I was very, very shy. I refused to go to school because I was scared – I only spoke Chinese and no one at school could understand me. So my grandma came to school with me every single day and sat at the back of the classroom. She spent hours just waiting for me. Every time I got scared I would just look back at her and realize I was safe.
Then we would go home and we would spend the entire day together. She was my best friend when no one else in the world had the time to spend with me or the capability to understand me. Everyday we napped together in her bed under the sunlight. Then she made my favourite foods and we would just spend the day in each other’s company. “Perfect love drives out fear”, 1st John tells us.
This is just one example of how she dedicated her life to loving our family. I still remember when she taught me how to play games, drink from a bottle, make dumplings, and even use the toilet (she bribed me with candy!) Through the way she treated me, I learned that love was the most important thing to give to someone else because her love changed my life. Indeed in the Bible it says “Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.”
Love truly never fails: I experienced this first hand because her love shaped my identity completely. At night when I was scared of thunderstorms and didn’t have the words to say, her embrace was enough. When I stayed for days in my room to study for exams, she brought me so much food to my room (without a single word) until all of the household dishes were in my room! When she would make bao, she would make me a special triangle shaped one full of brown sugar and she would secretly slip it to me when no one was looking. When she went grocery shopping she always used her extra money to buy me you tiao which made my day! One time I even tried to teach her English but it was way too hard and we just gave up and couldn’t stop laughing. She loved us like it was just what she was made on earth to do.
When someone loves you SO much with no rhyme or reason, without ever expecting anything in return, and does this for years and years… you start to realize that maybe you are worthy as an object of love. To be deeply known by someone (including all your faults and insecurities and impatience), and to still be loved – that is nothing short of a miracle. Once you realize you are worthy of such love, honestly, anything becomes possible in your life.
When I go forth into the real world and all the forces of the world tell me to forget the important things, or forget how to love, I know that my grandma has created a character in me that is strong enough to face the world. If I ever forget how important it is to take care of each individual human soul, I will remember my grandma and the enormous impact she had on my life. In the last twenty years, her mission field was not the workplace or school, Bruce and I’s souls, fundamentally changing the way we see the world and treat others. She is an embodiment of God’s love: patient, kind, not self-seeking, not easily angered, not keeping record of wrongs, always protecting, trusting, hoping, and persevering.
While I miss her everyday, I know that she will always be with me, because she gave us each the gift of a heart, a heart that we use everyday so we can learn to love like how she loved us.
Those were words from 17-year-old Cassandra Hsiao, whose moving college essay caught the attention of multiple US universities and the world.
The Malaysian-born teenager, who now lives in California, had written about her humbling experiences learning English while growing up in an immigrant household.
She has received offer letters from all eight Ivy League colleges, including Harvard, Princeton and Yale. She hasn’t made her decision yet but said that she would be visiting colleges in the coming weeks.
“Identity and the desire to belong are two of the most relatable struggles that people face. I wanted to share a slice of our home life, my relationship with my mother and both of our stories,”
In our house, English is not English. Not in the phonetic sense, like short a is for apple, but rather in the pronunciation – in our house, snake is snack. Words do not roll off our tongues correctly – yet I, who was pulled out of class to meet with language specialists, and my mother from Malaysia, who pronounces film as flim, understand each other perfectly.
In our house, there is no difference between cast and cash, which was why at a church retreat, people made fun of me for “cashing out demons.” I did not realize the glaring difference between the two Englishes until my teacher corrected my pronunciations of hammock, ladle, and siphon. Classmates laughed because I pronounce accept as except, success as sussess. I was in the Creative Writing conservatory, and yet words failed me when I needed them most.
Suddenly, understanding flower is flour wasn’t enough. I rejected the English that had never seemed broken before, a language that had raised me and taught me everything I knew. Everybody else’s parents spoke with accents smarting of Ph.D.s and university teaching positions. So why couldn’t mine?
My mother spread her sunbaked hands and said, “This is where I came from,” spinning a tale with the English she had taught herself.
When my mother moved from her village to a town in Malaysia, she had to learn a brand new language in middle school: English. In a time when humiliation was encouraged, my mother was defenseless against the cruel words spewing from the teacher, who criticized her paper in front of the class. When she began to cry, the class president stood up and said, “That’s enough.”
“Be like that class president,” my mother said with tears in her eyes. The class president took her under her wing and patiently mended my mother’s strands of language. “She stood up for the weak and used her words to fight back.”
We were both crying now. My mother asked me to teach her proper English so old white ladies at Target wouldn’t laugh at her pronunciation. It has not been easy. There is a measure of guilt when I sew her letters together. Long vowels, double consonants — I am still learning myself. Sometimes I let the brokenness slide to spare her pride but perhaps I have hurt her more to spare mine.
As my mother’s vocabulary began to grow, I mended my own English. Through performing poetry in front of 3000 at my school’s Season Finale event, interviewing people from all walks of life, and writing stories for the stage, I stand against ignorance and become a voice for the homeless, the refugees, the ignored. With my words I fight against jeers pelted at an old Asian street performer on a New York subway. My mother’s eyes are reflected in underprivileged ESL children who have so many stories to tell but do not know how. I fill them with words as they take needle and thread to make a tapestry.
In our house, there is beauty in the way we speak to each other. In our house, language is not broken but rather bursting with emotion. We have built a house out of words. There are friendly snakes in the cupboard and snacks in the tank. It is a crooked house. It is a little messy. But this is where we have made our home.