Daddy’s Little Princess
Mindy X. Fang
I was in my third year at graduate school, PhD program. Everything looked extremely fine: I was able to get the most wanted faculty member as my thesis advisor, one of the giants of a hot new field. In just a couple of years I would be branded with a PhD trademark, millions of opportunities would await me.
No one had noticed that behind my smile was a heart so depressed. Illusion, I thought, life is an illusion. The same dream haunted me every night. In the dream I was flying in the cold, lonely, dark sky, heading home which was at the other end of the earth. I could see the light from the window and I knew they were there - my mother, and of course, my father. I had been my father’s pearl. But I always woke up before I could reach them, and when I woke up I would realize it had only been a dream, my father had long since been gone forever. Between the dream and the reality was my murmur: How I wished to be with my father for just one more moment. Just one more hour, one more minute. I would trade all I had for that minute.
But it was so irrelevant. Had I worked harder in my life and gained more, would my father have died? Yes. Had I worked less and gained less, would my father have died? Yes. Going to a US graduate school was my father’s last will for me, but I could never make him proud again since he’s no longer around. Meaningless. Utterly meaningless. Everything became meaningless to me, as I vividly recalled the names I saw on my father’s tombstone. My mother had insisted to have her name on the tombstone as well, so that she could be reunited with him some day. Seeing both of their names there and thinking of that dreadful day to come, I had lost my courage even to live to tomorrow. In my imagination my tomorrow would involve more deaths of my loved ones. I would have no one in the end. I feared my upcoming loneliness and helplessness more than my own death.
I managed to hide my tears. Become stronger, I told myself, then you won’t need anyone. I believed in myself. I believed I was smart, I was capable – I was a professional-to-be. Tears were too shameful, too pathetic, they had no practical value. I could become my own help.
The smartest idea I came up with was dropping out from the school and going back to my hometown to live with my grandmother and mother, the most important people left in my life. I would take great care of them so that they would live for a very long time, long enough that I would no longer feel any sorrow. After that, my soul and my body would be at rest.
But then what would happen to my children? If I were gone they would be very sad too, and it would break my heart if they were sad. So I myself must live for a very long time, though I did not care, but just to stick around for my children. I must exercise and eat healthily, watch the traffic when I cross the street, stay away from Interstate Highway 95 especially, and try not to take any flights. Still, would my children live for a very long time for the sake of my children’s children? I may not be able to see to it myself anymore. I fell into deep worries even though I was not married yet, I was not even dating.
I carried on my daily study with these troubled thoughts. I didn’t have any solutions for them and that made me very unhappy. Whenever I was alone my facial expression was extraterrestrial since I believed my soul was above earth in a middle world and my life was just an illusion. I didn’t know why I was there, I did not ask to be born yet now I had to live with burdens, my life span was just trouble and sorrow, and soon I would fly away with a moan. Who would still remember me? Those who could remember me would be gone as well. The whole generation would be gone. The world would be gone. If my life was just as trivial as that, I wish I had never been made. If my life was just as trivial as that, I couldn’t see any problem of giving it up.
One day after my Gene pathway class, my brain being flooded with dozens of incomprehensible science publications, I couldn’t help asking myself: Do you really believe that we, human beings, evolved from apes and apes evolved from plants and plants evolved from a single living cell, and that single living cell, by mysterious chance, evolved from dust? Coming from a communist country, we believed in Marxism and Darwinism, only atheists were politically correct. But I could no longer convince myself as my brain was busily picturing that, by thunder and waves, iron was turned into Cartier watches and burned trees were turned into Tiffany engagement rings. It seemed to me that these things were probably more likely than the spontaneous birth of men.
Then I had come to a point where I was compelled by myself to conclude that there is a Maker. My conclusion was not as scientific as my thesis but it was the greatest discovery for my life. Why I’m here, my Maker knows; What I’m supposed to do, my Maker has planned; When I’m gone, my Maker will remember me. In fact He does much more. He is the Almighty. My father loved me dearly and he had done so much for me, I was so gracious to my father. My Maker loves me with no limit and what He would do for me has no limit either. He takes me as His precious little princess. I can not imagine how gracious I should be to my Maker, never gracious enough I’m sure.
On the day of my baptism, I wailed in front of 300 people. I also voluntarily listed to them all the sins I had, I even said I was a terrible person as such, no wonder no one would love me. Unexpectedly I felt no shame, but instead great relief. For from their eyes, I saw no contempt but great love. When I stopped pretending that my life was sufficient, my life became more sufficient and I was loved more. And this love, unlike the love my friends gave me, even unlike the love my parents gave me, was so pure and selfless that it only looked heavenly, for nothing from earth could compare to it. With this love, I felt my family was no longer disappearing but quickly expanding, I could never be lonely again.
It has been several years now and the sweet familiar sound of the word “Heavenly Father” has been lingering my every day. Everyday is better than the previous day and my heart is already bursting with joy and happiness. If my tomorrow is better still than today I’m really not sure what I will do, maybe my Maker will make my heart hold slightly more. Cool extraterrestrial looks lost their attraction to me, now I’d rather look like a happy balloon.
I don’t have the same dream anymore. My grandmother and my mother still live far away from me in my hometown, but I know my Maker is their Maker too, and He will take great care of them. I myself live in a city most frequented by earthquakes, and whenever the wind blows, my apartment swings, it even swings when a Porsche happens to pass by. But I live in peace, I’m no longer afraid of tomorrow.
(End)
