Daily Manna from Heaven

Who am I? I am just a worthless woman. My life was not holy just like the other Jews. I lived in a sinful life. Sometimes I think that GOD doesn’t care about my life. For the first time I fell into the adultery life, I feel guilty that I betrayed God’s law, but when I want to repent for my sin…. I was afraid…. really… I was afraid.

According to the Moses law, every people that commit adultery must be punished by stoned until death… yes I know it even I have done a sinful act. Where should I go then? I am not worthy anymore in front of GOD, that’s why I continue this life, day by day, year by year to search for the true love, to search for the true man that can comfort me into their arms.

I lost my virginity once when my first boyfriend rapped me. I was ashamed and I am crying… why this happened to me? No one answer and no one can help me. The Pharisee? Forget that stupid idea! They only know how to judge people but they are never help them. Ok, ok, they knew everything about Torah… but somehow I can’t approach those guys… I know they are evil, but compared with my life, I far more evil.

After my boyfriend has my virginity, he left me without saying a word…. well, what should I do then? I can’t go further to GOD because I have sinned already. I know that my heart empty…. I need love… a true love…. a love that can reform myself into the new woman. I search for the true man… hope that they can embrace me…. always there when I cry…… and…… never work. Once I meet with a man… they always see my body and then…. they just have a pleasure on me. All of them can’t give me a love that I hope and finally my heart always feels empty.

No… I don’t want to live my life like this anymore, but somehow my last boyfriend keep asking me to sleep with him. Then…. in one morning (I will not forget this nightmare), suddenly the Jews around neighborhood got inside the house. They are so many Jews, hundreds of them, with a loud voice, condemn me and suddenly drag me from my house…. They treat me like an animal, I even didn’t put a half of my cloth yet. Hundreds of people spit me right into my face; some of them slap my face, no… this is nightmare for me, HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! but it’s useless… no one can hear my voice in the middle of the crowds. I think this is it… yes…. finally I will be punished by stoned until death. A death penalty…. ok, this is my last time finally….

Before I die, somehow, both my heart and my soul crying unto The Lord. In the middle of the crowds I began to pray “O GOD, Jehovah, GOD of my ancestor Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. I always knew generation by generation that You always keep Your promise. I know that I have sinned against You. I am ready to die GOD, yes… I am ready to die. One thing that I want to ask you: Please forgive my sin….” Well, I don’t know if GOD really hears my pray or not… Almost all the people beat me until I am in a half of unconscious.

In the middle of my unconscious, I laid down into the ground but I know that I have been dragged to some one with a great influence. I just only see his feet, but I don’t know how His face looks like. Then I heard some of The Pharisee and The Scribes tell something into this Man “Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act.

Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou? “….. oh no! He will punished me with death penalty. I also heard a sound of the rock in all people’s hand, ready to throw at me…. I am afraid, but nothing I can do….. But, still…. no answer from that Man….. he still busy to write something into the ground. Then The Pharisee and The Scribes ask Him for the second times… still…. no answer from Him. Third times, Fourth times, Fifth times….. This Man never replies their answer…… Until I heard all the people cry aloud… push this Man to put the death penalty unto me. I am confused, who is this Man? Why He still calm in the middle of the crowds?

Then suddenly, this Man rise up…. standing in front of the people and say “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her!!” … and suddenly the voice of the crowds stopped. Wow! He is no ordinary Rabbi…. He looks like GOD itself. More than a charisma that He has. Who is this Man? Why suddenly I feel that He is my defender? Why suddenly I feel that He is my savior? After He said His simple sentences, He come back to wrote something in the ground. I must admit that this Man was very, very calm. He remained unprovoked by other people. Very different with those Pharisee…. yes… very different. Who is This Man?

*crack*…..  I heard one stone falling into the ground….. no!… not one…. two… three…. four….. no!… there’s many….. I wonder if they have start to throwing at me. Still, I didn’t feel the pain in my body. Yes it is true that they start to leave the stone into the ground and start to leave me….

WHAT? I don’t believe they didn’t punished me! I try to look into them but I am still weak…. I still lay on the ground until I can hear only His finger writing into the ground…. I try hard to lift my face to look at this Great Man and finally I can lift my face… and look at Him, my Savior…

Yes… I can see His face look straight unto me and ask me “Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee?”  Oh… what a voice…. His voice is not only full of justice, but somehow I fell that this voice comforts me and fill my empty heart with….. abundant love…. God’s love. In the middle of my surprised, I replied “No man, Lord”… yes no one… I can’t believe it. I am a sinner, actually I must be punished.  Wait !! maybe He is the one who will punished me! He stands as a judge and who knows that He is the one who have rights to kill me now. But, He replies again with an answer that…… changed my heart and my life forever “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more. “

After He said so… then I know that He is Jesus from Nazareth. Many people talks about His miracle but I didn’t thought that He is so powerful like this. I can’t imagined with His other miracle. Just by His Word, He completely changed my life now! Although I only knew some of Torah….

Deep inside my heart, I know that He is GOD! The true man that can embrace me… comforts me when I am sad… and will always stand by my side….. stand in front of me right know! He touched me with a love of GOD… not with the love of human! More than a True Man, He is GOD itself…. and I believe that GOD heard my prayer…. and forgive me from all of my sin!

Thank you Lord Jesus… You are the true man that I searched for… Your love restored me as a new woman. Your love like a sunshine in my dark past. Now I am like a new born baby. This is my new beginning…. O Lord, what I supposed to do than stop to live a sinful life and follow Your way? Thank you so much…. Thank you GOD. I know now that You are always there…. I know that You are a living GOD….. Thank you Jesus, You are my Savior! (adapted from KJV Bible John 8:2-11)

“… Go, and sin no more.”

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THE ROOM

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings.

As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Girls I Have Liked.” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I Have Betrayed.”

The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I Have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed At.” Some were almost hilarious in their
exactness: “Things I’ve Yelled at My Brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger,” “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.” I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked “Songs I Have Listened To,” I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: “No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!” In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.

I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?

Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.

“No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.”

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

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After a few of the usual Sunday evening hymns, the church’s Pastor slowly stood up, walked over to the pulpit and, before he gave his sermon for the evening, briefly introduced a guest Minister who was in the service that evening.

In the introduction, the Pastor told the congregation that the guest Minister was one of his dearest childhood friends and that he wanted him to have a few moments to greet the church and share whatever he felt would be appropriate for the service. With that, the elderly gentleman stepped up to the pulpit and began to speak.”A father, and his son, and a friend of his son were sailing off the Pacific coast,” he began… “when a fast storm blocked any attempt to get back to the shore.

The waves were so high, even though the father was an experienced sailor, he could not keep the boat upright and the three were swept into the ocean as the boat capsized. “The old man hesitated for a moment, making eye contact with two teenagers who were, for the first time since the service began, looking somewhat interested in his story. The aged minister continued with his story…”

Grabbing a rescue line, the father had to make the most excruciating decision of his life: to which boy would he throw the end of the life line? He had only seconds to make the decision. The father knew that his son was a Christian and he also knew that his son’s friend was not. The agony of his decision could not be matched by the torrent of waves. As the father yelled out ‘I Love You, Son!’ he threw out the life line to his son’s friend. By the time the father had pulled the friend back to the capsized boat his son had disappeared beneath the raging swells into the black night. His body was never recovered,” the old man said sadly.

By this time, the two teenagers were sitting up straight in the pew, anxiously waiting for the next words to come out of the old Minister’s mouth.”The father,” he continued, “knew his son would step into eternity with Jesus and he could not bear the thought of his son’s friend stepping into an eternity without Jesus.

Therefore, he sacrificed is son to save the son’s friend. How great is the love of God that he should do the same for us? Our Heavenly Father sacrificed His only begotten Son so that we could be saved. I urge you to accept His offer to rescue you and take hold of the life line He is throwing out to you in this service. “With that, the old man turned and sat back down in his chair as silence filled the room.

The Pastor again walked slowly to the pulpit and delivered a brief sermon with an invitation at the end. However, no one responded to the appeal. But, within moments after the service ended, the two boys were at the old man’s side.”That was a nice story,” politely stated one of the boys, “but, I don’t think it was very realistic for a father to give up his only son’s life in hopes that the other would become a Christian.” “Well, you’ve got a point there,” the old man replied, glancing down at his worn Bible.

As a big smile broadened his narrow face, he looked up again at the boys and said, “It sure isn’t very realistic, is it? But, I’m here today to tell you this story gives me a glimpse of what it must have been like for God to give up His only Son for me. You see… I was that father, and your Pastor is my son’s friend.”

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I shook my head in disbelief. This couldn’t be the right place.

After all, I couldn’t possibly be welcome here. I had been given an invitation several times, by several different people, and I had finally decided to see what this place was all about. But, this just couldn’t be the right place.

Quickly, I glanced down at the invitation that I clutched in my hand. I scanned past the words, “Come as you are. No jacket required” and found the location. Yes, I was at the right place. I peered through the window again and saw a room of people whose faces seemed to glow with joy.

All were neatly dressed, adorned in fine garments and appeared strangely clean as they dined at this exquisite restaurant. Ashamed, I looked down at my own tattered and torn clothing, covered in stains. I was dirty, in fact, filthy. A foul smell seemed to consume me and I couldn’t shake the grime that clung to my body.

As I turned around to leave, the words from the invitation seemed to leap out at me…”Come as you are. No jacket required.” I decided to give it a shot. Mustering up every bit of courage I could find, I opened the door to this restaurant and walked up to a man standing behind a podium. “Your name, sir?” he asked me with a smile. “Jimmy D. Brown,” I mumbled without looking up. I thrust my hands deep into my pockets, hoping to conceal their stains. He didn’t seem to notice the filth that I was covered in and he continued, “Very good, sir.

A table is reserved in your name. Would you like to be seated?” I couldn’t believe what I heard! A grin broke out on my face and I said, “Yes, of course!” He led me to a table, and sure enough, there was a place-card with my name written on it in a deep, dark red.

As I browsed over a menu, I saw many delightful items listed. There were things like, “peace,” “joy,” “blessings,” “confidence,” “assurance,” “hope,” “love,” “faith,” and “mercy.” I realized that this was no ordinary restaurant! I flipped the menu back to the front in order to see where I was at…”God’s Grace,” was the name of this place.

The man returned and said, “I recommend the ‘Special of the Day’. With it you are entitled to heaping portions of everything on this menu.” You’ve got to be kidding! I thought to myself. You mean, I can have ALL of this?! “What is the ‘Special of the Day’?” I asked with excitement ringing in my voice. “Salvation,” was his reply. “I’ll take it,” I practically cried out. Then, as quickly as I made that statement, the joy left my body.

A sick painful ache jerked through my stomach and tears filled my eyes. Between my sobs I said…”Mister, look at me. I’m dirty and nasty. I am unclean and unworthy of such things. I’d love to have all of this, but, but, I just can’t afford it.” Undaunted, the man smiled again. “Sir, your check has already been taken care of by that Gentleman over there,” he said as he pointed to the front of the room. “His name is Jesus.”

Turning, I saw a man whose very presence seemed to light the room. He was almost too much to look at. I found myself walking towards Him and in a shaking voice I whispered, “Sir, I’ll wash the dishes or sweep the floors or take out the trash. I’ll do anything I can do to repay You for all this.” He opened His arms and said with a smile, “Son, all of this is yours if you just come unto me. Ask me to clean you up and I will. Ask me to allow you to feast at my table and you will eat. Remember, the table is reserved in your name. All you must do is accept this gift that I offer you.”

Astonished, I fell at his feet and said, “Please, Jesus. Please clean up my life. Please change me and sit me at your table and give me this new life.” Immediately, I heard the words, “It is finished.” I looked down and white robes adorned my body. Something strange and wonderful had happened.

I felt new, like a weight had been lifted and I found myself seated at His table. “The ‘Special of the Day’ has been served,” the Lord said to me. “Salvation is yours.” We sat and talked for a great while and I so enjoyed the time that I spent with Him. He told me, me of all people, that He would like for me to come back as often as I liked for another helping from God’s Grace. He made it clear that He wanted me to spend as much time with Him as possible. As it drew near time for me to go back outside into the “real world,” He whispered to me softly, “And Lo, I am with you always.”

And then, He said something to me that I will never forget. He said…”My child, do you see these empty tables?” “Yes, Lord. I see them. What do they mean?” I replied. “These are reserved tables…but the individuals whose names are on each place-card have not accepted their invitation yet.

Would you be so kind as to hand out these invitations to those who have not joined us as yet?” Jesus asked. “Of course,” I said with excitement as I picked up the invitations. “Go ye therefore into all nations.” He said as I turned to leave. I walked into God’s Grace dirty and hungry. Stained in sin. My righteousness as filthy rags.

And Jesus cleaned me up. I walked out a brand new man…robed in white, His righteousness. And so, I’ll keep my promise to my Lord. I’ll go. I’ll spread the Word. I’ll share the Gospel… I’ll hand out the invitations.

And I’ll start with you. Have you been to God’s Grace? There’s a table reserved in your name, and here’s your invitation…

“Come as you are. No jacket required.” —— “For by grace are you saved through faith: and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God.” - Ephesians 2: 8

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Death was walking toward a city one morning and a man asked, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to take 100 people,” Death replied. “That’s horrible!” the man said.

“That’s the way it is,” Death said. “That’s what I do.”

The man hurried to warn everyone he could about Death’s plan.

As evening fell, he met Death again. “You told me you were going to take 100 people,” the man said.

“Why did 1,000 die?” “I kept my word,” Death responded.

“I only took 100 people. Worry took the others.”

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WHEN YOU DIVORCE ME, CARRY ME OUT IN YOUR ARMS AGAIN
http://www.Goodnews.visit.ws

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.

This was the scene of ten years ago.

The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid, I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affections between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.

Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes.

Dew came into my life.

It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her.

Dew said, “You are the kind of man who best draws girls’ eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we just married, my wife said, “Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls.” Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife. But I couldn’t help doing so.

I moved Dew’s hands aside and said,” You go to select some furniture, O.K.? I’ve got something to do in the company.” Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised her to go and see with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something impossible to me.

However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt. Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew’s body. This was the means of my entertainment.

One day I said to her in a slight joking way, “suppose we divorce, what will you do?” She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that ‘divorce’ was something too far away from her. I couldn’t imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious.

When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking with her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.

Once again, Dew said to me, “He Ning, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live together.” I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more.

When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. “I’ve got something to tell you,” I said.

She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn’t know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. “I want to divorce.” I raised a serious topic calmly.

She didn’t seem to be much annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, “why?”. “I’m serious.” I avoided her question. This so-called answer turned her angry . She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, “you are not a man!”.

At that night, we didn’t talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew.

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer.

A late night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fell asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again.

She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn’t want anything from me, but I was supposed to give her one month’s time before divorce, and in the month’s time we must live as normal life as possible. Her reason was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn’t want him to see our marriage was broken.

She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, “He Ning, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day?” This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, “I remember”. “You carried me in your arms”, she continued, “so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning.”

I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage with a romantic form.

I told Dew about my wife’s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. “No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce,” she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn’t had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out for the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, “daddy is holding mummy in his arms.” His words brought me a sense of pain. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, “Let us start from to day, don’t tell our son.” I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for bus, I drove to office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn’t looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face.

On the third day, she whispered to me, “The outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there.”

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel tha t we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vaguer.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger.

I didn’t tell Dew about this.

I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, “It seems not difficult to carry you now.”

She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, “All my dresses have grown fatter.” I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head.

Our son came in at the moment. “Dad, it’s time to carry mum out.” He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She said, “Actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old.”

I held her tightly and said, “Both you and I didn’t notice that our life was lack of such intimacy.”

I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her, “Sorry, Dew, I won’t divorce. I’m serious.”

She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. “You got no fever.” She said. I moved her hand off my head. “Sorry, Dew,” I said, “I can only say sorry to you, I won’t divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn’t value the details of life, not because we didn’t love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you.”

Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into cry. I walked downstairs and drove to the office.

When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me to write the greeting words on the card. I smiled and wrote, “I’ll carry you out every morning until we are old.