My book review on THE FIVE PEOPLE YOU MEET IN HEAVEN

The five people you meet in heaven
I always believe that everyone has his heaven. It is a belief. But what is heaven for? Some people think it’s for entertainment. Some say it is for rest. Some take heaven for havens… Mitch Albom introduced the idea that “Heaven is for understanding your life on earth” in his book called The Five People You Meet In Heaven. What’s the book for? It is not a science fiction to unfold our wings of imagination about the heaven. It is not a treatise to convince you to change your heaven to his. It is not a story to make you addicted to the plot or crazy about the character etc. In my opinion, it’s more like a fable to help you understand your life before you lose it.
This life-affirming fable ironically begins at the end of the life of a man called Eddie. He is the head of maintenance at Ruby Pier which is a big amusement park. He feels lonely because all of his relatives have died. He feels very disappointed about his dull work and he thinks his life is meaningless. On his 83rd birthday, he dies of trying to save a little girl in an accident. When he wakes up, he is in heaven. He learns that heaven is not a lush Garden of Eden but a place where you meet five people to tell you stories, teach you lessons so that you understand your life.
Word does not make sense, what makes sense is your thoughts. When I follow the pace of Eddie to meet person one by one, the anxiety and curiosity to see the person becomes an exam in which I raise questions and seek for answers. Who will my five people be? What will they tell me? Who dies because of me? Who do I misunderstand? … I become the other student, taking lessons with Eddie and cook the soup of my own life. In my understanding, life is like a bowl of soup. We have 5 ingredients: sugar, salt, chili pepper, vinegar and bitters. In each stage of life, the taste is different because you put different ingredients in the soup.
Salty
Eddie’s first person is the blue man. When little Eddie is playing in the street, he rushes across the street to get his ball. This action scares the blue man who’s practicing driving, and luckily he slams on the brakes so it doesn’t cause accidents. But unluckily, the jolt of adrenaline has forced his weak heart to pump furiously. At last he dies of heart attack. He teaches Eddie that “We are all connected.” And “No life is a waste, the only time we waste is the time we spend thinking we are alone.”
Finishing the first lesson, I put salt in the soup. The tasteless soup becomes salty. I recall my childhood. I was always alone at home. At that time I couldn’t afford to buy snacks when I was alone at home. Children were always hungry. So I developed the habit of eating salt, of course just a little each time. When I had salt, I thought of dishes. When I thought of dishes I thought of the scene that my family eat together happily. So when I had salt I felt as if I was together with my family and my loneliness was gone. Now I will not waste time crying for my loneness. Because I know that people around the world are connected and strangers are just family I have yet come to know.
Sour
Like many young men, Eddie becomes a soldier. Before the army escapes, they burn the houses. Eddie finds a child in the house and he tries to save her. This behavior delays their plan, so the captain shoots Eddie in his leg to take him away. The captain dies when opening doors for the army. Eddie’s leg is so badly hurt that it’s incurable. During the rest time of Eddie’s life, he keeps thinking about what he loses in the war so he is blind to happiness. The captain makes him understand that sacrifice is something to aspire to as a part of life and when you sacrifice something precious you are passing it to others.
For the second lesson, I put vinegar into the soup. When sacrifice is mentioned we can think of a lot, but we always forget the one that is nearest to us, the mother’s sacrifice. My mother sacrifices her time and passes it to me. She has to go out to buy ice-cream for me so that I can have time to watch TV. She cancels her appointments so that I have someone to play badminton with. She has to get up earlier to prepare meal for me… I grow up but she grows old. The soup is sour. I am moved and sad. Time is life, so my mother not only gives me life but also sacrifices her life for me. How generous a mother can be! I will live my life well, for us.
Hot
The third person Eddie meets in heaven is Ruby who’s the wife of the original builder of Ruby Pier. She happens to be in the same sickroom with Eddie’s father. Eddie admires his father although his father treats him badly. But they finally break after a quarrel. Ruby shows what his father is suffering to him witch makes his misunderstanding towards his father melts. She teaches him that “Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.” And “Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves.”
The ingredient I choose is chili powder. Child is of course affected by their parents. But I believe that when parents smudge, crack or shatter, they get hurt too. Reading the description of his father, I think of mine. It was hot between us. Things too hot can not only hurt the stomach but also heart. Every time my father is yelling at or scolding me, I know we are both hurt. I used to hate him but I gave in. Because I find that anger is like a snake. It only eats you, only twists around you. Hating is a weapon that defeats you. I learn to minus anger instead of pulsing it, as well as my father. I believe that no one in the world should be hurt by my anger and I should be hurt by no one’s anger.
Bitter
Eddie meets his wife Marguerite in heaven as he wants. They love each other deeply. Like every couple they have contradictions and misunderstandings. But “Love, like rain, can nourish from the above, drenching couples with a soaking joy. But sometimes, under the angry heat of life, love dries on the surface and must nourish from below, tending to its roots, keeping itself alive.” Marguerite tells him that lost love is still love, love has no endings. When life ends, love takes another form called memory.
It’s always bitter for people when they can only have memory. It’s bitter because they lose their lovers so they have no choice but memory. It’s bitter because they have memory which keeps reminding them of who they lose, too. I always believe that love can grow, like plants do. When you begin to love someone, you plant the seed. If that person loves you, then the plant germinates. If the love is deep and develops well, the plant will bloom. If the love is complete and the conditions are suitable, the plant can have fruits. It is the time when love brings two people together and keeps them together forever. When your lover dies, love loses its nutrient so it dies in the ground. But Roots are always there.
Sweet
The last person Eddie meets in the heaven is the girl he burns and fails to be rescued in the fire in the war. The girl answers the question that concerns him. She tells him that he saves the little girl in the Ruby Pier. She points out the meaning of his life which is that: he brings happiness to children; he keeps children safe; He saves children’s life. Finally Eddie learns how much he matters and how he is loved.
I am happy for the happy ending and I pray that everyone has a happy ending. After reading I discover or I am reminded that I can make a difference to other people, that how deeply I am loved. So my heart is filled with sweetness. The soup of life is sweet, I hope everyone can taste their soup and finally cries out: “How tasty life is!” I always believe that one’s life is always meaningful to him and to others.
My life is far away from the end, so my tasting of life will go on. I believe whenever I read this book, I will always be reminded of something old and learn something new.
From my point of view, it makes no sense to understand your life in heaven because you will not go back to life again. So what matters is that you handle the knowledge before you have no chance to use it.
Life will make sense.

my second assignment

The violinist

An old lady in an elegant dark suit walks gracefully past him with her eyes looking straight arrogantly. The golden necklace and diamond rings on her fingers glitters in the sun. He feels in his pocket trying to find one cent, but in vain.
A middle-aged man in a crumpled suit looking at his watch rushes past the old lady; the notebook computer bag in his hand rocks back and forth as if running too. He looks at the man resentfully wandering why this man looks much stupider than him can have a job but he even lost his poor job?
Right in the opposite of the street the young lovers hold each other tight. The girl nestles her head on the boy’s shoulder and locks her arms about his neck. One of the boy’s hands surrounds her waist while the other caresses her lovingly. He mumbles that if only his girlfriend didn’t leave him.
A restaurant’s big window wall with colorful spray paint saying “MERRY CHRISTMAS” acts as the background of the couple. The Christmas father in the picture pasted on the wall is smiling at him as if saying:” It is no use pulling a long face. Try to smile.” The smell of the roasted duck wafts across the street which makes him mouth water. His stomach is growling as a result of nothing to eat for one day.
Together with the smell, an 8-year-old girl scampers across the street. Her laughing face is just like the balloon floating in the sky with thread in her hands. This scene reminds him of his childhood. At the thought that the worry-free time has gone and will never come back he can’t help grieving.
Drawing back his sight, he opens his calabash-like violin box slowly. He looks at his violin with mixed feelings. The red velveteen underlay is just like the girl’s skirt of cambric. His delicate violin lies inside: its smooth board reflects sunshine to attract pedestrians’ attention, while the two f-holes are just like his handlebar, and the violin string is so old that it loses the desired tone. He pulls out the bow and picks the rosin to wipe the string carefully, after that he use his slim fingers to take out a cloth and wipe off the remaining rosin. Then he holds the neck of the violin and pulls it out of the box and rests left side of his jaw on the chinrest of the violin, he is quite proficient because everything has happened uncountable times before, except that this time it happens in the crowded street.
The pleasant, lingering sound of the violin flies over the street.
Pedestrians soon gather and make a ring round the violinist. In front of them, the tall and scraggy player wears a crumpled blue shirt, his long hair floats in the wind as well as his loose oily old pair of jeans. He stands there stably like a thin bamboo deep rooted into the ground. With his eyes closed, obviously he is enchanted in his music world.
People whisper with each other. One girl censures his boyfriend: “why can’t you play violin so? How romantic it is!” A middle-aged lady has an air of complacency and warns her son that: “Now you see, if you don’t listen to me and go on playing, you will like him.” Another middle-aged woman says:” what is he doing? Showing off in the street? Why don’t guys do their jobs hard, I can’t understand why the youth nowadays don’t have ambitions?” in a shrill voice. The old lady says:” What a poor boy!” in kindness and put ten dollars in the ground before him. “Stop!” the 8-year-old girl shouts, “He is an artist, he plays violin here to devote himself to art not for money. How can you treat him as a beggar?” The old lady flushes crimson with embarrassment and gets back her money quickly and makes profuse apologies to the violinist. The girl is proud of what she has done and the audience nods in agreement with her. The face of the violinist is red too, in his mind, what the girl says SHOULD be right, he should not be a beggar, but he has no choice, he is a beggar now, he plays violin hoping to get money. What he wants is money not art, now he realizes that art is useless, only money is amiable, only money can feed him. He cries:” I want MONEY! MONEY! MONEY! Give me MONEY!” However he dares not to speak out. All these thoughts can only be buried in his heart. His face is convulsed with sadness and tears run across his face. Seeing this, the girl says:” What a good artist!”, people appreciate him more and have a good round of applause for him because they think the tears show that he flings himself into the plaintive melody body and soul.
For days on end, not a cent is collected.
But one morning, when the violinist wakes up, he emits a cry of pain! His violin is lost! Someone must have stolen his violin when he was sleeping in the street. He drops into desperation. The violin is the only tool for him to make a living!
Suddenly his eyes are lightening up. Guess what he sees? COINS! Coins are lying on the ground before him. At the moment, an old man bends down and gives him 10 dollars, saying with a sympathetic look:” Go to buy some bread, my poor guy.” He thanks the man sincerely and stuffs the money into his empty pocket. He picks up the coins one by one and counts them with great satisfaction. His laughing face is like a sunflower, expanding wildly in the sunshine…
In the world, another beggar is born and a violinist is dead.

She is in the street

Her long hair is flying about in the wind. Her slight frame is in a white dress. She walks with fast steps.
She stops to see the time, only1 minute left. She bows her head and walks faster.
Stores in the roadside are flying in the opposite direction. The hubbub is evaporating in the sunshine. All kinds of cars spreads horizontally in the road. The irregular arrangement of cars in the road forms a labyrinth, she goes through pathways sidewaysly.
The air curdles to become a big jelly isolating all sound letting the sinister sunshine permeates. It is a hot jelly, like the warm in the bed in winter morning.
She doesn't have a umbrella with her. She meets the sun in the window of the car. It is laughing with teeth out and streches its arms to hold her to its bosom.
The high-heeled shoes are knocking her heel. She knocks the ground heavily to make her too aching to feel the pain.
The high-heel of the shoe is a walking stick, which appears when we don't need it to afflict ourselves. So when we are old, we can't leave the support of the real walking stick.
Sweat runs around her body wilfully like the bostonivy.
It is so hot that she wants to take off her dress.
But she knows, what chothes are used for, to keep from shame.
Surprisingly, she finds that people in the street are primitive humanbeings
They have no shame!

The bull----spain

From an outsider's point of view, a bullfightt is just a cruel heartless show where an animal is butchered mercilessly. For many other Spaniards, a 'corrida de Toros'is some sort of sacrifice, almst a religious event that reminds us of man's fight against nature. It reminds of that story of survival common to mainkind:'we survive because we kill nature.'A bull symbolizes power and life in the Mediterranean tradition. A brave bull is an animal born to fight. A bull is also a powerful symbol of fertility and therefore symbolizes the preservation of life.The matador is a hero, a prince of the people because he comes from the grassroots.He conquers nature everytime he kills a bull during a fight.He can kill because he also risks his life during the fight.A bullfight is also an erotic symbol.His baneruna style poses and his tightlyfitted dress could not be found outside a bullring.A fight is also like a bloody ballet of life and death.The bullfighter's main weapons are intelligence and courage against the strength and bravery of the bull.

my first assignment

The world outside my window

In my poky little room, there is a large square frame for picture. A vivid landscape is presented, yes, it is dynamic: it changes as the sun rises and falls; it changes as the lights switched on and off; it changes as leaves turn green and yellow; it changes as flowers bloom and fade; it changes as my visual angle changes; it changes as my mood changes...... What is the magic landscape on earth? It is the scenery outside my window, the world outside my window. My window is a transparent wall that separates the uproar and prosperity from me, a transparent barrier that parts the ideality from reality. I am very thankful that I live in the 8th floor so that the whole scenery can be captured and I take a grate pleasure to stand alone before the window to read this landscape, this multiple world.

Every day, the rumble made by buses running on the neat and wide road wakes me up. As if leaded by a military march song, people walk very fast, almost rush to the station and then crowd in the bus to get to the workplace, to begin their busy day. I can smell the tight atmosphere. The world outside is a bout for time, the verity here is that time makes money instead of time is money. The whole world is racing forward, so we have to keep running, more and more quickly. Once you slow down, you will miss opportunities and you will be left behind, then you will be out!


When eating breakfast beside my desk, I prefer to look out of the window rather than facing the white board. There, on the opposite side of the road, is a beautiful park. Tortuous paths shaded by trees meander through green pastures as if big snakes traverse the lawn lackadaisically. People are walking slowly or jogging on the path with birds singing and dancing in the trees, absorbed in peace and the beautiful of nature. In the central of the park, children are playing happily around the irregularly shaped spraying pool. Caeruleus tiles are paved on the floor thus enduring the colorless water with a color of bright blue. When a tender breeze flicks the water, layers of wave are lifted; they reflect sunshine and give out a diamond-like shining. Elders prefer doing some easy exercise with the sport facility fixed on the round plat ground in the north of the park. When they feel tired, they can have a good rest in the summerhouse, which looks like an umbrella. A clack sound catches my attention and it is made by people who are playing tennis in the southwest of the park. There are eight tennis courts in total. The general case is that families come here to practice tennis and parents play with their children. They equip themselves well and practice seriously; you can feel a harmonious relationship and one thing called love between them rather than the tight atmosphere of competition. What I like most about the park is the omnipresent and diverse trees. They fill in almost the whole park except the space for the paths, pool, courts and grounds. Trees are of all kinds: some are tall while some are very short; some are evergreen while some have already turned red; some have very big and round crowns and cast big shadows while some have fewer leaves or are fastigiated…… Trees shake as wind passes; they make the park a three-dimensional and dynamic place with different structures and levels rather than a planar space. The world outside my window is a place for tired people to breathe in fresh air, to embrace nature, to put down pressure, to do exercise, to entertain, to have a moment to clear up disorder thoughts, to contribute to the warmth of family and to taste life.

A peal of ringing that spreads from a school in the northwest of the park recalls my memory. I still remember the happy feeling I have experienced in my childhood because the ring declared the over of the boring class. No longer did I need to stay afflictively in the classroom to listen to the tedious class, and I could fly out to play! The shape of the teaching building is like the letter F with classrooms arraying layer upon layer. Looking at the building from the flank, I can’t help thinking of waffles. Right in the opposite, in the southeast of the park is my school, the CityU. I can only identify it from its light blue color and the successive zigzag roof, because most of the building is hidden by the luxuriant trees grown in the park, leaving, or, I would like to say, driving you to imagine the building. The world outside my window is a holy land for education, where knowledge is explored, passed on and put into practice. The students inside will be the builders of the society, and with the effort of generation after generation, the society keeps going forward.

When sun goes under the horizon, lights are on duty. Knowing that the night scene is one of the fascinations in Hong Kong, I am so appreciated that I can capture the magical night scene freely just by sitting comfortably on my chair. It seems as if I am an audience sitting in the theater watching the magic played for me: just one minute before, the polluted air permeates between edifices as though to wear the edifices a filmy coat, leaving the continuous mountains hard to recognize. One minute later, the magic works. Sky turns wine, first a few lights are turned on, and then more and more, eventually in a short time, lights are shining brightly on the wine curtain. The rhythm is just like a melody played by an orchestra, at first it’s the prelude, few musical instruments are played to lead the audience into the world of music , more and more, finally all the musical instruments are played, they cooperate to produce the best and resonant sound and approach the climax of the sonata. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, pink, white……various colors of the lights make the black picture a polychrome one. Different shapes of lights keep the scene away from humdrum and feature the unique design of each building well: one light is globate, some are rectangular, some form the shape of letters, some are stringed and enwind around the roof of the building like a crown, and some even change their shapes every 5 minutes…… Most of the lights are inside the buildings, which make the building look like a black box inlayed with plenty of glittered diamonds. Inside the buildings, there are people working hard, maybe they are hungry, maybe they miss their easeful home, maybe they are ill……They are still there to accomplish their work, no matter they are forced to do so or not. One thing is kept in their mind: business world is a battle field, with fiece competition everywhere. Not only can the fight bring up giants, it can make you breake down as well. In order to be consonant with the challenging world, to have a better life, you have to work hard, to struggle, to fight and to be the winner! The enthralling night scene is not only beautiful scenery, but more important, a symbol representing a business world full of heavy smokes of gunpowder with doors either leading to the paradise or the inferno.

Whenever I look outside through the window, I hear the call from the abundant world outside. It calls me to save time to be more efficient; It calls me to do exercise to keep healthy; It calls me to have a relax to reduce pressure; It calls me to calm down myself to plan my way; It calls me to study hard to arm myself better; It calls me to chase my dream and to live my dream!