Meditation of Aunt:

High up in the mountains stands an old two-story Chinese wooden house. Red chunlian hang on the front door, and strings of dried red peppers and corn dangle from the porch beams. It’s just Mom and me.

We often hike to the mountain peak to fly kites, where we stand above the clouds, our laughter carried by the wind. We’re happy and content, even though we don’t know where Father is. All we know is that he’s an important figure in the city, and this place, our quiet mountain home, is his sanctuary.

He used to send people to deliver everything we needed. Life was simple and peaceful. Then one day, the deliveries stopped.

Mom had to work tirelessly to keep us going. When I was old enough, she sent me into town to find out what had happened to him. I failed. I discovered he had died, and I died in town as well. I never returned. I left Mom alone in the mountains.

When my life is still, I crave movement. But when things begin to stir, my heart longs for quiet. This unrest feels wrong, I don’t want to live like this. Oh Father God, please purify this unsettled heart. Teach me to embrace each moment as it comes, to find peace in the present, and to rest in Your presence always.