Monthly- Archives: September 2021

September 25, 2021


CHLOE ZOU

Two Morality Tales

Pearl, with croissant

It was another Tuesday evening. Pearl had just gotten back from a tiring two-hour long practice, and she was exhausted. Her hair had fallen out of its perfect bun and her leotard had lost some gems, but before she could relax, she had to first get through her math homework. She took a shower and sat down to eat her slice of salmon, cooked to the perfect buttery softness with a hint of lemon, and homemade pasta with homemade sauce on the side, topped with small and delicate meatballs (she disliked big meatballs). Then she proceeded to start her math. Only, it was extremely challenging but she had to do it anyway. Marker in hand, she wrote out the problem on her white board which was rimmed with shiny pink glitter. UGGGGGG. It didn’t make any sense! Where was she supposed to start? She stared at the question, and gave up. “Daddy! COME HERE NOW! I need help with my math.”

“I’ll be there in a second hon, I’m washing the dishes. Try it on your own first.”    

“But I already did, and it didn’t make sense. Just hurry up!”

 “I’m coming.” And 5 minutes later, he was nowhere to be found.

“Are you coming or not?” Pearl asked.

“Coming, coming.” Finally he walked over and sat down with a sigh. He took one look at the question and asked her, “So, what do you not understand?”

“EVERYTHING! I DON’T KNOW WHERE TO START!”

“Calm down, and let’s do this step by step.” And so her father went on to explain the literal equation with way too many variables, where she was solving for X. This was met by the rolling of the eyes, where her long, fake eyelashes that she had carefully done that morning were exposed. You could also see her carefully drawn eyebrows where each line was done to perfection. But you see, that was to be expected. And to help all of you, who are probably in shock right now, I will explain a little bit about the spoiled brat who goes by the name Pearl.

Yes, even her name is one expecting luxury. Every morning, she is woken up by her furry turquoise alarm clock that sings out whatever song she chose the night before. Next, she gets out of bed and puts her feet onto her extremely soft, lamb wool, furry rug that was in a specifically chosen shade of lavender mixed with a slight tint of pink. Then she will dress in some expensive outfit and do her hair and makeup in her private bathroom, complete with a jacuzzi, two sinks and of course, the same color furry rug to match. 

Dressed and ready, she goes downstairs to feast on her elaborate breakfast, made by her father. Breakfast is usually complete with fresh, French croissants that come from a bakery an hour away from home, one strawberry waffle made in the shape of a heart, two slices of bacon, one scrambled egg with some green onion (to add color) and lastly a fresh cup of orange juice.

So as you can see, she is an EXTREMELY, ABNORMALLY, SPOILED child. Parents, please don’t do this!

The next morning, as Pearl sat there, feasting on her mouthwatering breakfast, feeling like a queen, her dad took off his apron and exited the kitchen. Pearl pulled out her iPhone 12, covered with rose gold designs, to check her texts and various social media accounts.

Pearl’s parents shut their door and retreated to the his and hers bathroom, shutting that door too.

“She shouldn’t be working you like her own workhorse, and besides, she doesn’t need fancy clothes and makeup!” exclaimed her mom. “You are like her servant. You give her everything she wants. I don’t remember you ever being that nice to me!”

“Oh, so that’s what it’s about? You’re jealous that she gets more attention than you?!”

“Jealous! Have you gone crazy? I’m angry because you treat her like she is the queen of the world. I don’t even think real princesses are that spoiled.”

“She’s not that spoiled. I mean remember that time in second grade where she made you chocolates and a wreath for Mother’s Day? Or that time she knit us patterned scarves for Christmas?”

“Yeah, well when was the last time she did that? She has just gotten more and more spoiled by the minute. That happened in second grade! Years ago! Now she’s just become way too grandiose! And do you know who’s responsible for it? YOU!”

“It wasn’t just me. It’s not like you did anything to stop her from becoming so ‘grandiose’.”

 “Yeah, well at least I didn’t make her spoiled in the first place! You can’t even say that about yourself.”

“Fine, what if you try parenting her? I’m going to go to work. And if I remember correctly, you aren’t that good at it either. Remember when you fed her almond milk, even though you knew she was allergic to nuts? If I weren’t there, Pearl would have suffered from severe rashes!”

“How was I supposed to know that it had almonds in it? I thought it was just named almond milk. I mean there’s been a bunch of things that have been named incorrectly!”

“Oh yeah? Name one!”

     Silence…

“Exactly, that’s what I thought. Well anyway, have fun parenting, and do me a favor, remember that she is allergic to… NUTS!” He finished getting dressed for work, got his briefcase and left the house.

Pearl believed that her dad would be back after a day at work, so she didn’t think about it until she had been dropped off by her mom, only to find no beautiful snack waiting for her on the marble countertop. Usually, her father prepared a mini-tart for her return from school. This tradition had been going on ever since she was 7, so Pearl was more than a little disturbed to find the tart missing. Every single day, of every single week, of every single month, of every single year, a mini-tart had been waiting on the countertop. And on the rare days that her father was unable to, he had arranged earlier for things to be done by mom. But now, for the first time in years, that mini-tart WAS NOT THERE! For a normal child, this would not be a big deal, but for Pearl it was a HUGE deal. Little did she know at the time that this was the start of hard work, something she was not accustomed to.

Pearl stomped out of the kitchen, to find her mom, but she was not there. This was not going to stop her. She was angry, and she was going to let her mom know. Pearl walked over to the family phone to call her dad.

“What in the world is going on daddy?” screamed Pearl. “Where are you? Why are you not here? Where is my mini-tart?”

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down. I answered the phone because I am no longer your private butler. I am not at home, because your mother and I have finally agreed on a solution for you.”

 “What do you mean by a ‘solution’ for me? I don’t need a solution, I’m perfectly fine!”

 “Today, while you were at school, your mother and I met up during lunch to discuss a problem we have been ignoring for way too long.”

“What do you mean ‘problem’??”

“Now Pearl, do not interrupt.” This surprised Pearl, who was not used to being told what to do. “I’m getting there. Both of us feel that you are spoiled. And we have finally come up with a way to hopefully change that.” Pearl stood there for a second, shocked and speechless. Who are you? she thought. But then, her anger came back to her. She wasn’t going to give in this easily, so she started screaming and telling her dad that he was crazy. But for once in her life, she did not get what she wanted. Her father took a deep breath and continued.

“For at least the next two weeks, you will be working for yourself. Anything you need or want, you have to figure out a way to get it. There is a part-time job at the craft store down the street, though you may need to work on your sewing,” said her dad. “For your meals you can call me every morning for the first week, and I will have three different recipes that can be easily cooked. But for your second week, you can cook either the same things, or find a recipe online. The pantry is kind of low right now, so you will need to make a trip to the grocery store. The money for it will be dropped off under the mat at your doorstep on the entrance to your room tonight, but there will only be enough to buy your basic needs. So spend it wisely!” Pearl just stood there, shocked, her brain trying to comprehend everything. Her dad gave her directions to microwave macaroni and then said good luck. 

Pearl put down the phone, thoughts and emotions swirling through her head. But then one specific emotion came to the front: anger. PEARL WAS ANGRY! Very angry about the entire plan. And when a spoiled brat such as Pearl is angry, she makes an earthquake, and a tsunami and a volcano eruption, all at once. And Pearl, not quite sure what to do with her anger decided to stomp around for quite a while, until her feet were absolutely broken and she couldn’t go on anymore. Then, she figured she should get started on her homework, more than once poking a hole in the paper with her pencil. Finally, when dinnertime came around, she had calmed down enough to attempt to cook microwave macaroni without burning the house down. But when she took it out of the microwave, it seemed that she had overcooked it and many pieces had become crispy. Three hours later, she proceeded to change into her silk pajamas and went to bed. One day down, 13 more to go.

The next morning, she swallowed her annoyance and called her father. She wrote down the instructions for microwave oatmeal, frozen pizza and microwave quesadilla and was ready to hang up, when her dad said something very interesting: “You must learn to not live like a spoiled child, so later today when you come home from school, things will be changed.” This confused her but she pushed it out of her mind and made her oatmeal and her frozen pizza which she brought to school for lunch.

The day at school was just like any other day, but she walked home instead of being driven, stopping by the craft store to apply for a job, which she was given immediately. Had the craft store lady been notified of this? This was exhausting and irritating to Pearl, but what she found when she walked into her room was the most shocking. Nearly everything she owned had been transformed to plain versions and only one sink was available for use (the jacuzzi was off limits, yellow tape barring her entry). Pearl became angry, but it didn’t do her much good, so 20 minutes of stomping later, she was back to doing (and ripping) her homework. After her homework was finished, she decided to go grocery shopping. She was about to go up to her room and get ready in a fancy outfit and makeup, until she opened her closet door and looked at her new clothes, plain as unsweetened oatmeal. This infuriated her to the point where she decided to abandon the idea of shopping for the day.

The next day, she finally forced herself to go shopping, for there wasn’t really anything left in the pantry to eat. At the store, she saw so many beautiful sets of makeup and outfits but after she bought a few food items, she found herself with only 2 dollars left, barely enough to buy a Hershey’s bar. Oh how she hated living like this.

The days went by, cooking microwave recipes, going shopping once a week, walking or biking to places. Then, two weeks later, her parents decided to go out to dinner as a family. To her parents’ surprise but approval, Pearl did not order the most expensive thing on the menu, but instead, she ordered a basic pasta plate with a couple of meatballs (in fact they were the large ones that she used to despise) and only water instead of a mango soda drink with a piece of lime on the rim, for after the weeks of limited money and a part time job at the craft store (she somehow managed to get the skills needed), she finally understood how much money was worth.

After six weeks, Pearl had finally turned around from a spoiled brat to a reasonable teenager. Her parents moved back in, and her father got to sleep in until 7:30 in the morning. Pearl now cooked her own breakfast (upgraded to scrambled eggs on the stove) and packed her own lunch (usually a sandwich). Pearl either walked, biked or carpooled with her friends to school. She was no longer a spoiled brat!

Phoebe

Phoebe, struggling with all her commitments

Phoebe had a schedule that one might call cramped. Monday: flute and then directly after flute was band practice, Tuesday: Spanish and gymnastics, Wednesday: Volleyball & Writing, Thursday: Chinese (she considered it important to know multiple languages) and Gymnastics, Friday: Math & Gymnastics, Saturday: art and choir, and finally, Sunday: piano for 3 hours at least. Plus, there was homework from these classes and from school and she needed to study for tests and quizzes. If it wasn’t clear already, Phoebe was busy, one might even go to the extent of saying, she was a WORKAHOLIC! She never played during the weekdays, unless it was a break so she could master all of her eleven classes (gymnastics repeating three times a week). But, to her, there was something almost nice about it. She liked being at the top of everything, understanding and knowing so much, but as she was a human being and a child, she found that she envied those around her who could do nothing but sit there, munching popcorn and binge watching their favorite TV show, so it soon came to be that she found a need to relax and hang out with her friends.

Spring break was coming along and she could see that her week was almost entirely free from academic burdens, and… perhaps she could have fun biking with her friends!

During the eighth period of the day, the last period before spring break was truly here, their science teacher told them that there would be a pop quiz! Yes, you understood correctly, the teacher had indeed decided to give them a pop quiz 40 minutes before break, and quite unfortunately it was the only subject Phoebe wasn’t so extraordinary at. But Phoebe worked through it, and handed the test in relatively confidently, 5 minutes early. It was a disappointment to have a test on the day before break, but she told herself, it’s just one more small obstacle before a week-long break. Don’t worry, it’s nothing, she told herself, but she could already feel her annoyance building up. Thankfully, it was let out when the bell finally ran, releasing all the kids from captivity inside the school building. The sun had been shining so brightly outside, as if to taunt all the students but now they were free – and not just for the weekend, but for the following week! Spring break here I come, she thought.

She got on the bus and soon was dropped off at her driveway. There was only one thing that needed to happen before spring break was truly hers. The dentist. Yes, I know. Why would anyone put their dentist appointment on the Friday before spring break? Well, they do such a thing when there is no other time slot available. She thought it wouldn’t be too big of a deal. After all, she did have the entire week to play, but she didn’t realize just yet what this dentist appointment truly meant. It was 15 minutes before Phoebe was supposed to leave for the dentist and she was getting dressed. She checked her phone quickly for any text messages and found one from her friend: “Are u free today? Do u want to go biking?” “Sry, but I have to go to the dentist today. What about tomorrow?” But to her terrible shock, she read: “Ohh, then I won’t be able to see you until after break.” She stood there, shocked. Desperately, she typed out her message: “Wait, why????” “I’m leaving for Florida to c my grandparents tomorrow and I’m probably going for the whole break.”

Phoebe just sat there. This was the third time today someone had told her they were going to Florida: earlier, when she was getting her books from her locker, she had asked her locker neighbor whether she wanted to get ice cream from Rolling Moo, sometime during spring break. And guess what the answer was? “Oh, that would be fun but I’m leaving for Miami tomorrow. Maybe another time?” The second time was when her partner for English class had left in the 20 minutes before the bell because she was leaving for Orlando in a few hours.  And now this? At this rate, no one is going to be left in her town, she thought. At least pick another vacation spot. Couldn’t someone she knew stay, so she wouldn’t be stuck in New Castle for a week by herself? In noting her absence through text, instead of sending her anger through a red-faced emoji, she just replied: “LUCKY!!” with lots of happy faces. Now, all she got to do was go to her very fun dentist appointment and let near strangers poke at her teeth for 20 minutes, or more. This was totally the best thing that could ever happen!

Why is it that whenever something bad is coming up, time seems to pass so terribly fast, but then when something good is coming up, time couldn’t possibly pass slower? She stared at the front door of the brick, dentist building that was her doom. She walked into the waiting room (themed a terrible orange and green) where there were two Pacman games waiting to be played. She didn’t know how to play them, so she didn’t bother. Instead, she sat down on one of the leathery bright green chairs that were exceptionally uncomfortable and waited for her name to be called by a nurse. And way too soon, it came, “Phoebe?!”.

Phoebe stood up and slowly followed the nurse to the dentist room which was themed in purple. There were lots of purple dots, in all sizes lining the walls – at least the color choice was better than the waiting room one. She got a paper towel that was connected by a bendy tube, which enabled it to wrap around her neck so that she wouldn’t get her shirt dirty, but no sunglasses, for she had grown old enough that they didn’t hand out sunglasses to her anymore, not that she minded. Then she proceeded to sit down in the reclining chair and waited for the nurse to start cleaning her teeth. As the nurse picked up the first tool on the tray, she tried to engage in some friendly conversation. This made Phoebe wonder why they liked to make their patients grunt and groan in reply while they stuck tools in your mouth. Wasn’t it just complicating things? And still the tooth cleaning continued, and after all the teeth were sufficiently scraped of any dirty substance, it was time for the tooth brushing. The nurse would apply the toothpaste flavor you had chosen earlier on to your teeth with a buzzing tool, causing annoying flavors in Phoebe’s mouth. Then, the nurse would attempt to get the toothpaste out by squirting water and letting another tool suck it out. I know it’s very pleasant… .       

Finally, when the brushing and flossing was done, the worst part came, the FLOURIDE. The icky, disgusting, slightly blue substance, way too gooey and slimy, put in your mouth for a whole two minutes! The nurse proceeded to dump a ginormous pile of fluoride into two, blue, plastic containers that fit over her teeth. As Phoebe sat there in her misery, she wished it would be over – she kept checking her watch to see when the two minutes would be up, but it seemed like time had slowed into a crawl. GRRRRRR… And a century later, it was time for the fluoride to come off. Phoebe wished she could rinse her mouth out with water, but no can do, for you can’t eat or drink for 30 minutes after! The torture of the dentist continued. But thankfully, the worst was over, and all that was left was the dentist coming in and doing his thing (something involving random numbers). The best part was that Phoebe wouldn’t need to do it again for six whole months!

As Phoebe exited the brick building, eager to leave the dentist behind, she suddenly didn’t feel the happiness of finishing her teeth cleaning, for she realized that she didn’t have anyone to hang out with over the entire break. I can figure something out, right? Surely, there is someone I can have fun with! And I don’t have to worry about academics for a week… but strangely, this brought sadness to her heart. She wasn’t used to not working on something – what was she going to do?? What was she supposed to do? Who was she going to do it with? and then it always circled back to, stop thinking about it, just relax, you don’t have to plan to have fun. Something would come up… . With the constant thoughts swirling in her head, it seemed like only a minute had passed by the time the car parked in their gravel driveway. She took off her shoes and climbed up two flights of stairs looking for her brother who maybe she could confide in, only to find that he was playing with his best friend. Her mom left again to run some random errands so she was out of the question. Now, with no one to confide in, Phoebe was all alone in her room, staring at herself in the mirror, wondering what was wrong with her? Her heart was starting to race, and she was desperate for something to do. AHHH!

The more she stared, the worse she felt, but yet, she couldn’t rip herself away from the mirror. She felt as if there was something wrong with her, and it slowly came to her, first as many questions. Where were her friends? Phoebe thought back to first grade, when she had just jumped around at the school playground, not a worry in her mind. She used to just play around, having fun; she thought about the present, when she barely made any time for the few friends she had, instead occupying her time by working and studying. Was it possible that she had pushed her friends away, little by little? With less time set aside for play, and more spent in obsessive studying, what had happened? Maybe, after the break, she should try to lessen her academic load, and bring her friends into the picture a little more… . And that is what she decided to do.

In the weeks to come, she began to change her thinking: maybe I can stop doing so many academic activities. She approached her mom with the idea of taking less classes, and her mom, who never was a very pushy mom, agreed. 

The next year when spring break came around, she had a full plan for the entire week – starting off with a 5 1⁄2 day trip to Florida with two of her friends, from Friday, after a half day of school, to Wednesday. Then when she got back, one of the parents had planned to bring everyone to get rolled ice cream from Rolling Moo which she finally got to go to. After that, a pool party had been planned in Phoebe’s backyard, complete with a seven feet deep pool, a diving board, an air track that slid into the pool like a slide, and a trampoline to do cool flips off of and of course, snacks and popsicles! On Saturday, everyone was coming over once again to Phoebe’s house for a day of baking, playing board games, making forts, and who knows what else. After exhausting themselves throughout the day, everyone got their sleeping bags and PJs for a slumber party. And on the last day of break, a barbeque would take place at Lily’s (one of Phoebe’s best friends) house along with a movie to finish off the fantastic break with no dentist appointments or mirror breakdowns. As you can see, Phoebe had transformed from a workaholic, to an excited kid who loved playing and had maybe consumed a bit too much sugar!

September 23, 2021


JONATHAN LIM

My grandfather, Kevin Lim, is a 75 year-old man happily retired living in Daly City with his wife. He has one son and two grandsons. Kevin Lim was born and raised in Korea but soon turned to America for a better life for his family. His story is one of struggle and ambition as he makes a life for his family. 

Grandpa came to America for a better life than the one he had in Korea. As a young man trying to find the dream in New York he struggled but persevered and eventually achieved his goal. He founded a newspaper, and once he had a stable job he brought his wife and son to America. Now he is 75 years old and is happily retired, living in Daly City with his wife. Every week, he comes into San Francisco to visit my brother and I. He watches the Yankees and supervises us as we eat dinner making sure we eat as much as possible. I came up with the idea to interview my grandpa because I realized I didn’t know much about him. I am happy to say that is no longer true and I am excited to share this interview with everyone.

My grandmother, Jeannie Lim, comes by every week to teach Simon how to play the piano. She’s been playing the piano for over 60 years and teaches students around SF including my brother and I. She chimed in at the end of this interview.

Ok grandpa, my first question is: Why did you come to America and what were your hopes? You can speak in Korean or English.

KL: Want the better life, from Korea to here. I have one son and want better education. So life can be better than father. Then we all together be looking for a better life. America make dream. 

What was raising Alex like? Was he a good son? A bad son?

KL: Bad son! (laughs) My life I’ve had good job I got a good son, good daughter in law, good grandchildren too. This is my life achievement. My son is very happy and has been good and from birth to now for 42 years- 

Translator/Interviewee’s son: (cough) 43 years (both laugh) 

Ok, you came to America for a better life and a better education. Who did you go with? 

KL: One and a half years I departed and I came as a 33 years old. Intentionally separate from son and wife to make dreams come true. (in Korean):

Translator: So he came by himself cause he wasn’t sure if he was going to stay here or not. If he was going to make it or not. He took a year and a half to figure if he could make it here. And then he called for my mom and me to come here. 

Do you remember the first time you met grandma?

KL: We married at ‘74. 1974. Before we married we dated for 2 years. We got together with friends, my friends and mommy’s friends and then… I pick up grandma! (He laughs) And we get to dating. 

You told me you worked for a newspaper, right? Can you tell me a little more about that? In Korea and America?

KL: I was a reporter. I make the newspaper. Here [in USA] is also report[er]. I also establish newspaper. Weekly newspaper. (in Korean):

Translator: He was at a different Korean newspaper in the U.S. Then he founded his own newspaper.

What was your job when you first came?

KL: First time here, grocery store working. And then four five months later somebody introduced trading company so I became customer care department manager. For two three years and then I worked at a Korean newspaper in New York, Korean newspaper. I worked there for 5 years. Then I made my newspaper. 

What was the newspaper called?

Weekly News of Korea. (in Korean):

Translator: So he was a reporter in Korea and he came here as a stock boy in grocery store for months. 

KL: I came here with 1500 dollars only. After two three weeks I don’t have money. 

Where’d you sleep?

KL: I slept in my friends house. And then anyways I get the money necessary for daily life. We get one week 240 dollars. Two three months later I moved to trading company and then I started 500 dollars. I give to the lawyer and give every month to Korea so they could be okay. My father arranged for visa here. Your great grandfather. We are very lucky. We got permanent residence. You know illegal documents? The President [Reagan] made all illegal document persons made illegally become permanent if they’ve lived there for a year. Give the green card. So my family could all get together because we had our green cards. 

You told me you did some boxing when you were younger?

KL: In high school. 9 grade to 11 grade, 2 years. We get the exercise, sparring. You know I go to the ring and fight someone. The guy is too tall! (Laughs) After that I quit!

This is the second interview with Kevin Lim, also known as my grandpa. So first we are going to talk a bit more about boxing and some other hobbies you were into. So, do you have any memories about boxing?

KL: Sometimes we practice together-

What age did you start?

KL: 15 years old.

Was it in a club? Or a middle school team?

KL: No no it was a private gym. And exercises every day, well every other day. And 6 months later we sparred partners individually. And then, we go up to the rings together. Then gearing up and everything. First round is good. Second round is bigger guy (laughs).

One round is okay! Second round is not so good

First fight? And then you quit??

KL: Yeah (laughs). One real tournament (laughs)

Not pain! Everything is nothing. Knocked out.

So you get knocked out. Why didn’t you work harder?

KL: Then my mother said. Don’t go to boxing. If you go to over there don’t come home.

Did you do any other instruments or other hobbies when you were younger?

KL: No nothing. I don’t have any hobbies or sports. In my generation don’t have any hobbies. Why? Not a lot of teaching persons not much money. So we can’t do it.

When you moved to America and you were in the market and you said you crashed at other people’s houses.  Do you remember your lowest moment? Maybe a bad memory?

(translator and KL confer):

KL: First of all, I missed my wife. Then my son next. First couple months I didn’t go with anyone. And no money. Sometimes charge to eat dinner and two times it’s okay. I go up to buy something I don’t have money.

Translator:  He didn’t wanted to be treated by his friends all the time. Because he couldn’t return the favor.

Now we are going to talk about your job a bit more. Tell me about your newspaper. Did you have any offices there, the one you started.

KL: Start in 1987. By myself. Why? I worked at daily newspaper for 5 years. Then I know a lot of peoples and then I make a new weekly paper…

Why did you do that? 

KL: I wanted to own something. I am the first time in New York. 

Translator: He was the first weekly Korean paper. 

Ok and how did you get the money to have this newspaper?

KL: We get the advertisements. It was a free newspaper but it was filled with ads. 

But regular readers and get 40 dollars for mail delivery. 

Do you know the highest readers?

KL: 20,000.

How many employees?

KL: 13-15.

Translator: When he started he said he had 3-4 employees.

Do you still have any newspapers that you printed. One with me on the cover?

KL: Yeah I have it! Do you want?

Yes I would. Now I want you to describe the ending of your business and how it was retiring. 

KL: Because of you, Jonathan. Jonathan is born over here and I wanted to see you every day. I miss you. So I came over here. 

So that’s all I got for grandpa.

Grandma, after watching my dad and I conduct this interview with Grandpa wanted to answer a few questions for herself.

Do you remember meeting grandpa for the first time in Korea? 

Jeannie Lim: When I was a junior high school teacher we have picnic for the teachers. And together the teachers go to the picnic. And so he came there! 

He didn’t teach though. 

JL: He was teacher’s friend. He came for free food (laughs) So that was the first time there. And he liked me and he followed me (laughs).

What was it like when your husband was in America? He was in America for a year and a half and you were with your dad. 

JL: I stayed with my parents and my son, Alex. And then I stayed there I teached the piano. So that’s it. 

How did you feel? 

JL: Very happy! (everyone laughs) I missed him too. 

One more question. What was it like coming to America for the first time? 

JL: Yeah first time I buy the piano. I buy the piano first and I started teaching. 

Did you want to come to the U.S?

JL: Of course I follow my husband. 

Were you happy in Korea?

JL: I’m happy with parents because they are very rich. But I miss my husband so I leave to my husband. I don’t know why (laughs). And your daddy missed his daddy too. 

September 20, 2021


JASON QIN

Curing an age-old curse: Lewis Barnavelt’s triumph

Spoiler Alert: Do not read if you are going to get the book. The book is difficult to find (only in print in the UK) and first editions are very expensive.

The fifth installment of the Lewis Barnavelt series, The Vengeance of the Witch-Finder, builds a nice storyline through Lewis’ character change. Lewis losing weight, his emulation of Sherlock Holmes with a knowledge of history, and his solidified friendship with Bertie help with the success of the book because these reveal how Lewis has now come into power through healing his families’ wounds that go back generations and across the Atlantic. This also shows why this installment is important to read and not just a fifth story that only connects with the others with a few references to past stories. 

The book starts with Lewis and his uncle Jonathan in London asking Constable Dwiggins where Baker Street is. Dwiggins leads them to a house that he thinks is most likely to be 221B Baker Street. Lewis is able to confirm this by citing Arthur Conan Doyle’s descriptions of the house and his own deductions: it should be an apartment house that faces east, with the front door of the building having a semicircular fanlight just like the door of 221B Baker Street – also apparently this house is the only one with a building directly across. How could he recite these facts from memory? Why, because he is extremely obsessed with Sherlock Holmes, so it would be embarrassing if he didn’t. It doesn’t even stop there because he lists the Sherlock Holmes stories all three details are from. The clue that the building faces east is from “The Adventure of the Dancing Men,” the clue about the semicircular fanlight is from “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle,” and the clue about the opposite-facing building is from “The Adventure of the Empty House.”

Lewis then hops in a train with Uncle Jonathan to Dinsdale in Sussex and while aboard, he learns why they are going to Dinsdale. Lewis sits there facing Uncle Jonathan in the first-class compartment (because let’s not forget why Uncle Jonathan doesn’t work) and learns about his deep roots in England which eventually branched off to the U.S.A. After this, Uncle Jonathan reveals that the British branch of the family owns a manor that is owned by Arthur Pelham Barnavelt. Best of all, according to Uncle Jonathan, this is a real manor. 

“‘And he lives in a real manor house?’ Lewis asked, his tone excited. ‘You mean one like Baskerville Hall, in The Hound of the Baskervilles?’ 

‘Right,’ said Jonathan with a smile and a nod. ‘Only the name of this one is Barnavelt Manor.’”

The uncle and nephew duo get off the train and meet good old Arthur Pelham. Cousin Pelly drives them to the manor at an extremely fast pace of fifteen miles per hour in his Austin Seven and, “ahead of them sprawled a huge, grey stone house with leaded windows, two turrets, what seemed a dozen bay windows, numerous gables, and intricate, steeply pitched roofs shingled with shiny black slate.” Lewis silently remarks that the manor looks evil and haunted with the all-too empty windows, and that even the house is giving them a sinister grin. All that aside, Lewis meets the housekeeper’s son, Bertie, a blind British boy who wears dark glasses, and they explore a hedge maze and accidentally release demonic forces that reawaken Malachiah Pruitt. How do they do this? Well, Lewis finds a map of the hedge maze with an X marking the middle. Lewis puts on his deerstalker hat, leaves for the maze, and almost gets scared to death by Bertie who then comes along. The two of them enter the leafy labyrinth and approach a stone bench. Lewis eventually figures out that there is a secret opening under the bench, and they wiggle into the dark opening in search of treasure. They do not find treasure. What they do find is some type of ancient building that is still unnaturally clean on the floor. They approach a box with the top half of a circle in the middle, large enough to be an adult tomb. They are able to slide some of loose bricks by fractions of an inch, and then they release a load of hot air that smells of a dead person.

Malachiah Pruitt is the witch-finder who wants vengeance (get the title now?) against the Barnavelts. Why is this witch-finder ravenous for revenge? Why, because way back in the British Civil War (1642-1651), Martin Barnavelt, the ancestor of Lewis Barnavelt, dabbled in magic – and though Puritanism produced wonderful results (see The Mayflower), as with anything, extremism took hold, and Pruitt rushed in to take advantage of witch hysteria. Pruitt himself dabbled in magic and made it so that he would be immortal, but Martin Barnavelt attempted to remove that magic… so Pruitt decided to implant his curse on the family and insert his wickedness into the very root and branch of the grounds. 

After the death of King Charles I, Pruitt laid claim to the Barnavelt Manor and kicked everyone out. He made a torture chamber out of the wine cellar and used it to force the accused to confess and rat out other witches. Eventually, Pruitt decided that Martin was a witch, and we are kept in the dark about why until about a hundred pages later. On page 138, Lewis and Bertie search the lumber room or attic and find a thin book which Lewis later finds out was Martin Barnavelt’s diary. According to Martin, Malachiah Pruitt had horrible conduct. In Martin’s diary, he wrote, “he had witnessed Witch Finder Pruitt’s persecution of ‘two poore harmless Women of the County, both Widows, and both doubtless innocent of any Evil whatever.’” The reason why Pruitt decided to come after Mr. Barnavelt was because Martin saw him performing magic. In the diary, Martin also admits to performing magic, but only to stop Pruitt from sentencing innocent souls to their death. Once the monarchy regained control and King Charles II was crowned, the members of his royal court spread rumors that Martin was one of Pruitt’s helpers. Like the fool Charles II was, he chose to believe them and decided not to give the Barnavelt Manor back until two years later. For revenge, Martin kept King Charles I’s crown in the brick vault in the hedge maze. Some time goes on as Lewis and Uncle Jonathan leave the manor to continue their journey through Europe, but Bernie informs Lewis through a postcard that something is wrong. Luckily, on the day he receives the postcard, he and Uncle Jonathan are going back to the manor. 

While Lewis was away having fun in the rest of Europe, a suspicious man by the name of Mr. Matthew Prester moves into the gatekeeper’s house. He is able to reconstitute by eating blood, his newly-formed mouth dripping with it and feathers: he munched through the entire Barnavelt chicken coop.  This results in Pelly and Bertie’s mom being nervous and edgy. Arriving back at the manor, Lewis reads through the diary again, and as he realizes that he has released Malachiah Pruitt, lightning strikes and he sees a “formless blob”, a “leering face with deep-set eyes”. Who is it? Is it the ghost of Pruitt? He then witnesses some sorcery: “two long bony hands weaving an intricate gesture in the air”. What is being shaped at this time? Well, the book explodes! It “burn[s] to nothing in a poof” and Lewis passes out.  

He wakes up and finds Bertie’s mom, but she seems robotic and distant. She even gets angry when Lewis asks where Bertie is. Lewis decides to go outside and finds Jenkins, the butler, acting as if he were possessed, and he locks the driveway (the border to the maze where Pruitt’s disembodied ghost occupies root and branch of the labyrinth). Bertie’s mom then chases him into his room. Lewis sits there and decides that he needs to get out without Bertie’s mom noticing, so he makes a ladder. He sneaks over to Bertie’s window and whispers, “the game’s afoot” (a Holmes quip) just to make sure that Bertie is just Bertie, not a robotized version. Then, Lewis and Bertie decides that they should go to the toolshed and grab some hammers and chisels and crowbars to break open the vault.

In the vault, they find the Amulet of Constantine and what Lewis assumes was the crown of King Charles I. After this, they decide to go to Martin Barnavelt’s study and plan how to use the amulet, but right when they almost get out, an invisible creature chases after them only to be stopped by the Amulet of Constantine.  The entity that inhabits the labyrinth is Malachiah Pruitt’s invisible servant (Pruitt has transformed into Prester, remember?) that has a solid form because Lewis can see the bent grass when it lays down. The servant is described as a “monstrous lion or tiger,” but it is “at least the size of a horse” (190). This is connected because back in the 1600s, Martin Barnavelt had banished the servant, and that killed Malachiah Pruitt. Lewis figured out that Mr. Matthew Prester is actually the ghost of Malachiah Pruitt, and that he has been able to hypnotize Bertie’s mom and Jenkins and kidnap Uncle Jonathan and Cousin Pelly after being let inside. Lewis and Bertie enter the study, hide the crown, and look through the bookshelves for any useful information. They find nothing, so they leave. Once they leave, they are chased down the hallway and slam into Cousin Pelly, who is under the spell. He leads them into a torture room that Malachiah Pruitt used back in the English Civil War, and in the room is Pruitt waiting for them, revived from a few more chicken sacrifices … and Uncle Jonathan is cuffed in his pajamas!  Lewis ends up tying the Amulet of Constantine to the crown of King Charles I that Pruitt needed to rule the world, and then puts it on his head. Then, we end with everything being resolved. Bertie gets to see at the end too!

Through this ordeal, Lewis has gained a sense of confidence that he hadn’t had before. As Rose Rita says him in The Letter, the Witch, and the Ring, he was a “worrywart.” In this book, we see him talking his brain out of creating these disastrous scenarios that might not happen. “He could get lost. He could fall into a deep pit in the centre of the maze and starve to death there. He could catch pneumonia from the damp evening air.” This allowed him to face beasts like the invisible servant without panicking or chickening out, no offense to Pruitt. He also made friends with Bertie and now the Barnavelt Manor is free of Pruitt and the centuries’-old curse. This character growth is also shown in Lewis’ loss of weight, his idolizing of Sherlock Holmes as motivation, and his strong friendship with Bertie which all demonstrate Lewis’s gaining more control over himself. For example, he succeeds in losing weight, unlike in The Figure in the Shadows when he could not put himself up to the commitment even with the help of the Charles Atlas kit , and his idolization of Sherlock Holmes allows him to guide himself by thinking, “What would he do?” Also, his friendship with Bertie helps him keep control and not just sit there bawling his eyes out until he is forced to join his uncle in the dungeon. He saves the day and the Barnavelt name! But wherever Lewis goes, he seems to accidentally release dangerous magical entities, something that occurs in every Barnavelt novel – he is becoming a wizard after all. 

September 17, 2021


ANGELA ZHAO

Spoiler Alert for “William and Mary” by Roald Dahl. Do not read unless you have read the story.

“Mary” by Kate Baylay

The story “William and Mary” by Roald Dahl is an interesting tale of a man dying and undergoing a science experiment that flipped the science world on its head. The story starts with William’s wife Mary taking a letter from her solicitor from her late husband. Mary was never extremely fond of her husband. He was restricting her as he never allowed her to smoke, and she never liked the way he looked at her. She described his gaze as “ice blue, cold, small, and rather close together, with two deep vertical lines of disapproval dividing them” (Dahl, 3). Although she may have loved him earlier in his life when they were first married, it has become clear that their bond had been weakened. She scolded him in her mind, saying that he was always formal, and never lightened up. This clearly made her frustrated with him, although his job was to be formal as a professor. She opens the letter after some contemplation, and begins to read it. 

            The letter describes the confrontation between Dr. Landy, a man who seems a bit too excited talking to someone who’s on their deathbed and the recently deceased. However, this is made up for by what he proposes to William. Landy first describes a gruesome experiment involving the severed head of a dog. This experiment suggests that the brain can survive outside the body, past death, with only an artificial heart pumping oxygen and blood through it. Landy, inspired by this idea, invents a way to keep a person’s brain alive without the rest of its body. He selects William Pearl as his subject, and when William dies, his eye and his brain are separated from his body and kept alive. Of course, he couldn’t hear or talk, but he could think and watch once he regained consciousness. This was Landy’s goal, now achieved.

            After reading the letter, Mary makes a beeline to Landy, who had already finished the experiment and now has William’s brain out and conscious and his eye floating in a basin. It’s rather gruesome sounding, and I don’t want to think about it more than I half to in the name of science. Anyway, Mary meets this form of William, and is enchanted by how weak and helpless her once stern husband is. She compares him to a pet, something that she must take care of. She sees her husband in a new light, perhaps seeing him once again as the loving man she married. She asked Landy if she could take him home, to which she got a definite no. But she is adamant about her take on the situation, and insists on having him back home.

She starts to really care about her husband when she first arrives at the facility where William is. She insists on putting the headline in the Times because William preferred the Times. She also insisted on calling William him rather than it. Can a person still be called by pronouns denoting people in the state that he was in? That could be up for discussion. She also said firmly to Landy after telling her that he wasn’t looking so good: “I didn’t marry him for his looks, Doctor” (Dahl, 20). The text also states that she seemed sullen, weathered, and overall tired-looking. She was all chipped and drained away through years of being with a man that didn’t make her very happy. When she stares in his eye, she finds a feeling of kindness and calm that she never saw in him when he was fully living. She realizes that this is the William she had been missing all of her life. She states that “I believe that I could live very comfortably with this kind of a William. I could cope with this one.” She likes this William much better.

But she starts to get feelings of power, the feeling that she was finally above him, she could do whatever she wanted and he couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t stare at her and say that he disapproved of what she did. She even called him “the great disapprover”. In fact, although he said in the letter not to buy a new television set (which was likely something that he told her while he was fully alive), she bought it anyway and put it up on his desk. She was clearly feeling rather rebellious when she did so. She smokes right up in his, er, eye, which was something he very much disapproved of. Mary felt that she was now in control of her life and that no one could really stop her. She was going to live out the rest of her days the way she wanted. 

Overall, this was a fascinating story, filled with facts about the brain that we never knew we needed, tidbits and mini stories within the main plot, and different perspectives and views within the limited vision of one character. This had that classic Dahl feeling to it, the feeling that you were both against and rooting for the protagonist. In this case, we see that Mary had been slightly mistreated by her husband but turns almost disrespectful and rebellious to him when he died. It was a pretty gruesome tale, and was not meant to be read by the faint of heart, but was informative about speculative science, and sheds light on a subject that was likely not pondered by many. I can see members of a Christian society getting rather angry and worked up at this tale; after all, it does involve someone transcending death, claiming that there was no heaven nor hell, as well as other more atheistic subjects. It was a very interesting tale that I very much enjoyed reading, and I hope to continue to find other stories that interest me as much as this one did.

September 16, 2021


AARON HUR

Coyotes in Wonderland

All I heard that night was scratches, barking, and growling. I couldn’t see what was going on, for I had not yet gained my sight. The ripping of flesh and the violent ruffle of trees and bushes was an indicator that I wasn’t exactly witnessing my siblings play-fighting each other. It was a dark night, and I could feel a cold breeze brushing on my face. My den was being attacked by a pack of wolves. I heard something pounce on my guardian, and then come for me. I tried to hide deeper in the bush I was in, as I saw a huge animal glowering over me, with its dark fur and eyes, and its teeth clenched ready to have me for dinner.

I saw it wince when a group of thorns cut through its fur. But it never attacked me; instead it retreated, tackled by two coyotes on its back. Before there was a lot of growling, now there was a lot of squealing. I could see that the wolf had red cuts and red ooze coming out, as it limped away into the dark along with its pack. Then everything went silent. 

***

From the moment I was born I knew I was different. I mean, I was what anybody would call a normal coyote. I was small, and had brown fur on my face, while gray and brown fur on my body – the colors blending together; I had pointy fox-like ears, cute dark eyes, and loved to play. I was only a pup, 5 weeks old. Our pack was small, just a few coyotes from the attack five weeks ago. But the main reason I was different was because I thought differently other members of the pack. I was still learning how to hunt, clean myself, and protect myself, but I always loved the woods. I usually live on the edge of the woods, but I loved to explore. Nothing would stand in my way from sneaking off into the woods. I liked to sniff out new green things everywhere, and I usually went deeper in the forest than anyone else. I lived in a mostly warm, but sometimes cold rainy climate, in a place you may know as Yellowstone: to me it is Wonderland. My den was a shallower stone cave-like structure, with huge rocks right outside of it. I lived on the edge of a big hill, next to a clear, pure river to drink from, and a green grassy area on the other side. Then beyond that was a large field with lots of yellow strands of waving grasses.

One time, curious about what I could hear in the breeze, I went off alone. I saw a huge dark square thing, standing on a thick branch, with as curved shiny glass pointed at my face. It seemed interesting so I walked slowly toward it sniffing it. From about 4 feet away, the black square smelled like black clay, and the thing holding what I discovered later to be a camera smelled faintly of oily claws. I could sense some excitement in a 5-6 foot-tall organism, and also some shaky nervous breathing.Then the figure holding the camera that was about 5-6 feet tall, much taller than I, walked slowly away for some reason like I was the predator.

We were very playful animals, but I will never forget the time I got lost. 

There was one day when I my exploration really got a hold of me. I was just out in the trees, when my curiosity grew more and more, and I went deeper and deeper into the forest. I reached a clearing, and when I didn’t recognize anything I saw, I knew I had screwed up. During the day, I searched for anything edible. Since I couldn’t hunt, the only thing I could get were various berries. The hard part was at night, when I went to sleep hungry, and I had to walk to get somewhere safe, and somewhere that I wouldn’t freeze to death. (I found a hollow opening in a tree.)  Another hard part was around noon when the sun was blazing on my face. My limbs became weaker as I tried to find someplace cool under a tree, but after a day or so, a member of the pack found me lying on the grass, confused, and not knowing what to do. When I got back, relief washed over me. 

I had so many adventures, from playing pranks on my siblings, by hiding and then jumping out to scare them out of their fur, to accidentally getting thorns on my coat from playing in a sharp bush, from accidentally getting lost by exploring too much, to scaring off a deer that my parents were trying to hunt for dinner.

Where I lived, there was nature all around me, practically untouched by many animals, perfect for exploring. The water was so pure that every night we could see the reflection of stars in it. It was peaceful for the most part, for that was the beauty of being a pup, because the crazy things I did would soon be the least of my problems.

Nine months later…

I will never forget this miserable night. I was with my pack just back from hunting, when a group of wolves emerged from the dark. They suddenly attacked us and left us instantly squealing for our lives. I tried to protect the younger pups, while fending off the wolves. We had a small pack so I knew this would be impossible. Small coyotes hid while we well fought them back. But when the wolves spotted us, there was no turning back. Blood was shed either way, as the wolf chased down the doomed coyote, and pierced its skin with one sharp bite; it dropped lifeless, with blood oozing out of its neck. The wolves got what they wanted- a couple coyotes to kill for dinner.

The rest of us had no choice but to hide. After the wolves left, I yelped to my pack: “We need to leave now!” 

It was a rough trip south. I was a young adult, but I had to lead my pack to safety. Searching for a different place to sleep every day as we were on the move at night, we occasionally stopped to find water, and food. Then, at last we found our place to stay. An enclosed space, at the bottom of a hill, on the edge of a little forest. The rest was covered with bushes, and trees that led deeper into the forest.  

As I approached, I was exhausted. I felt like passing out after weeks of seeking a new home. Then something caught my eye. A prickly green bush I was faintly familiar with! I walked farther up the hill. The way the trees were arranged seemed familiar too. My heart began to thump. I had found my old den that grew up in, the dark smooth stone cave that I used to lay in, with rocks that I liked to run around. I walked down the hill, I emerged only to see the extraordinary view I grew up with. I saw my play area in front of the den where I would scare my siblings. I now remembered the many things I had seen as a pup, from giant lodgepole trees, to dark spruce trees, from huge rocks, to geysers that could reach 100 feet, and from the hill that I lived on, to the huge mountains in the distance. We were back on the edge of a hill, next to a clear, pure river to drink from, and a grand green grassy area on the other side. Then beyond that was a large field with lots of yellow strands.  

It was a huge landscape, buried by trees like a forest, dirt, and branches on the ground, until you reached a clearing, and BAM! you saw a sight that you couldn’t forget. There was a pocket of trees to my left, great access to water from the river. Sunrise was coming, so the distant mountains were glazed with orange. Overcome with gratitude, I slunk down to a bed of evergreen fronds and passed out.

In the middle of the night, I woke up to a loud howling. I looked up alarmed, and walked cautiously to see dark shapes of wolves on the other side of the river, about 100 feet from us, spread across the grass, to the right of the mountains. I recognized their size and could just make out the leader’s face. There were at least 7. They woke all of us up with a loud howl that boomed in the distance. All of us coyotes were confused about what woke us up, but I was confused and angry as to why the same pack of wolves kept hunting us. The leader of the pack howled again, this time louder. All attention was on them. At last I howled, “Why are you here? Why hunt the same pack over and over? You already got what you wanted: my uncle and my best friend!?”

The wolf casually took a sip of water.

“It’s not the pack I want, it’s you.” I stared in confusion, trying to process this strange claim. “When I killed your parents, I came for you. But as I did, I got staggered by sharp bristles. Then that made time for two coyotes to pounce on me, leaving me injured, and our pack squealing. All because of one little pup. I am here for revenge.” 

There were 6 of us: three pups, three adults, and seven of them, all ferocious bloodthirsty coyote eaters. I had to lead my pack to safety, but I knew there was no way we could outrun them now. They had gotten a few coyotes from us, they had made us retreat, but they weren’t satisfied with that; they wanted to decimate us. The wolf sensed my fear as easily as catching a rabbit for dinner. I couldn’t surrender, and it was impossible to fight them. We would lose either way. So I did the only logical thing that came to my head: hide.

I scrammed to protect the pups, while going to a secret hiding spot in the ground on the other side of the hill. The others ran too, trying to escape. The wolves hesitated, and then started running in our direction. But we coyotes were quick; by the time they came in our direction, we were already hidden. The wolves could pick up our scent, so it was only a matter of time before they found us. We were hiding in my old den, hidden by branches, under where the wolves were walking. There was a huge opening in the entrance, kind of like a cave structure, so the wolves could just simply look in and find me. But I hid deeper inside, covered by branches, hiding the young, holding my breath, for the wolves were right on top. A few minutes later, a wolf picked up my scent and stared in my direction. 

The wolf eyed me, clearly knew I was in here, but couldn’t see me. The wolf was not the leader, a little smaller, but was definitely ferocious enough. It walked slowly toward me as I was careful not to move a muscle, or even breathe. It was quiet outside, with only the crunch of the wolves’ paws on the ground, and the rustling of the wind. I stayed completely silent, which made my heartbeat the loudest thing I could hear. The wolf kept walking ever so slightly, its nose twitching, my scent as obvious as ever. Then, one of the pups moved, making me flinch, rustling the branches, giving away our position; if matters could get worse, a coyote was spotted a few yards away in a different hiding spot, so a group of wolves rushed to ambush them. The wolf in our cave looked where the other wolves were heading, and I prayed it would not eat us, and follow the others. Instead, it turned around, looked me directly in the eye, and charged. That’s when all chaos broke loose.

Loud shots filled the air. The wolf in our cave dropped. My ears rang from the loud sound. From the wolf I saw a gash, with a metal chip on its side. More shots came, hitting wolves. I peeked out to see what happened, and through a bush I saw those 5-6 foot organisms holding weapons, aiming at the wolves, third partying us. 

The wolf leader looked at me. He scowled, for he knew we were at the end of the barrel. ‘Stupid poachers,’ I thought to myself. We coyotes were scared of those organisms, humans mostly, and my whole life I didn’t know why, but now I knew. The wolf leader and I knew we had to work together, if we didn’t want to get killed. We saw the wolf’s pack get decimated until there were only a few left. So when the wolf leader and I locked eyes, I saw that piercing stare, full of vengeance, but with also terror, and hope, with all that goes into leading a pack; but now we had a common enemy. Suddenly I saw that he was trying to squeeze that little bit of trust we had in each other. Then we both charged at the poachers.

The poachers were a good distance away, near the river. We did not try to kill them, but rather scare them off. I had sensed the fear the 5-6 foot tall organism had of me, when I was just a pup. A gunshot pierced the air. Right before we trampled them, we skirted to the side, as we left the poor poachers in a panic, running for their lives.

We tumbled into the river. The clear, cool water felt good on my face. As I got out of the water, I knew we had succeeded, but I turned around, and saw something that made my heart stop. The wolf lay on its side in the river lifeless, red streaks flowing out making the water not blue, but red. The poachers had shot him. I stood over the wolf’s body, a mix of emotions washing over me. Although this wolf had taken some of our lives in the past, he had saved the majority of us today, while in the process giving himself up.

Out of the trees emerged one of the female coyotes with the pups safely at her side. She had rescued them, while saving herself from the ambush, giving news that they had fled. Another one of us had been injured, and had to be tended to. Later that day (or night), I silently whimpered to myself over the wolf’s body, as we had to leave soon for a new source of water. I picked up the wolf, and rested him under a tree to honor him. Right before we left, I sat with my family, taking one last look at my home: I gazed at all the trees peacefully rustling in the wind, the grass I had grown up on, and the mountains blending with the orange glazed sunrise.