給人偉的子嗣及家人

給人偉的子嗣及家人
Link：https://75beinu.blogspot.com/2025/12/blog-post_25.html

想了，講了，都會掉淚。不為苦難，只為神賜的恩典與憐憫。

神為了讓自以為自己優秀能幹兼好命的02回轉認識主，進而願意接受主耶穌為生命救主，賜下各樣環境管教02，直到02心甘情願順服倚靠，改變自己。

神的作為何其美妙，一步步帶領。02走過逆境，才認清自己的渺小無知與軟弱。

神的應允同在，讓02無論處境如何艱辛，即便孤立無援無「人」可靠，仍能享有在主裡的平安喜樂。

神才是02要緊緊抓住的源頭。02隨時提醒自己不要在乎世人的評語論斷，要持續走成聖得勝的道路，直到回天家。

神透過2022年9月Alan從舊金山Downtown搬到紐約Manhattan，正式宣告Alan身體裡的cancer cells完全消失，不需要再追蹤。感謝讚美 主！

2025年11月2日Alan 參加紐約全程馬拉松的英姿。

2016年底Alan無預警在胸部診斷出得了年輕人容易得的germ cell tumor，02的世界驟然雪上加霜，神知道不如此管教硬頸不想認識主的02，02還會繼續認為「人定勝天」，或是「一切都是命，有拜有保佑，會抓老鼠的貓都好」。

神安排人偉立刻在兒子住處附近租了一間公寓，方便02就近照顧。單身女房東也是主內姊妹，非常handy，02從她那學習收穫很多。

02每天早上帶Homemade早餐去兒子住處，與兒子搭Uber去醫院，中午在附近買午餐送給兒子，然後走回家(路上有家日本超市)採辦晚餐所需。兒子用完晚餐，02才下班回家休息。

為了不讓任何親人擔心，也不想照顧Alan時還要應付親友的關心安慰，02閉緊嘴巴扛下所有重擔，包括大家看02是「把孩子當媽寶」的眼光。

神什麼都知道，神掌權。派了兩位屬靈的姊妹(也是北一女同學)隨時帶領安慰02，告訴02「兒子不會死，以後還會為主所用」，教02讀經禱告靈修，週日去兒子住處對面的First Baptist Church San Francisco做禮拜。

化療期間最顯而易見的觀察指標就是Alan的體重，02天天為兒子準備當天烹飪的和牛/鮭魚，搭配Avocado/Corn。兒子除了掉頭髮，體重完全沒降。

2017年3月化療結束，01開車來城裡，將02及從01那張羅來的臨時家當載回東灣，看到Alan的光頭大吃一驚，才知道02為什麼要待在城裡陪兒子，還告訴親友「人偉有個顧問約，常常需要到舊金山，因此在舊金山租了房子」。

02在撤囘台灣前還去張惠玫家參加了北加的北一女同學聚會。現在Daily Prayer例行感恩事項絕對不敢忘記⌈賜醫治大能恢復兒子的健康⌋。

靠「主」不靠「人」。萬事互相效力，叫愛神的人得益處。感謝讚美 主！

02於2025年3月13日

爲幫助不熟悉中文的孩子們讀02的文章，特別情商女兒校稿潤飾AI的英文翻譯。

2006/12/21

02 的滑雪經驗
中文原文：https://www.4thgrader.net/blog/e15096/276979.htm

02's Skiing experience

To all my friends enjoying skiing, if you see a female beginner skier whose eyes, nose, and mouth are the only things showing, dressed in a beautiful ski outfit from head to toe—basically just looking good but completely useless at skiing—don't worry, that's definitely not 02. The unpredictable newbie 02 has already hung up her skis and sealed them away.

~ 02

My son returned to Taiwan from the US with his father in 1990, my daughter went back in 1991 when she was in kindergarten, and 02 also returned to Taiwan to settle down in 1992. From 1994 onwards, the whole family would go on vacation abroad every Christmas. In 1998, to ensure our children wouldn't fall behind their peers when they returned to the US, we decided to spend a fortune on a family skiing trip. We chose Heavenly in Tahoe.

Since we had never skied before, safety was our top priority. We first bought all our gear in San Francisco: underwear, tights, turtleneck, overalls, jacket, goggles, beans, etc.—our luggage piled up like crazy. Upon arriving in Heavenly, we immediately booked courses. The two younger children joined Kids' Camp, while the two elders signed up for Group Lesson. Ugh! Those shoes and those incredibly heavy snowshoes reminded me of Su San being taken to prison—it was impossible to move an inch. In that godforsaken place, listening to foreigners explain in English how to stop in a triangle (pizza) shape, how to turn—cough! Cough! These kids, living either in sunny Southern California or in the subtropics of Taiwan, were like greenhouse flowers, completely lost. Before we even understood, the instructor had everyone take turns doing it. At that moment, I felt my IQ instantly drop to zero. Luckily, with my hat and goggles on, no one recognized me; they definitely wouldn't admit I graduated from Taipei First Girls' High School.

After several rounds, she was extremely frustrated. If her husband hadn't known that if he didn't help her soon, she would throw a tantrum and leave, never to return, he would have rushed over to give her some pointers. She was finally able to walk a few steps, and from then on, he always followed closely behind, lest he turn around and find his wife missing (not that she was tilting her head, but that her eyes were on where she was going, but her feet were acting up, not only being dragged around haphazardly by her snowshoes, but also reaching the finish line in a very awkward posture).

The first day was for walking practice, and the second day was for trying to ski on a very, very, very small slope. To get up that slope, of course, they didn't take a lift; they lined up and were pulled up to the top of the small slope by ropes before skiing down. Just like getting off a lift requires skill to avoid falling, similarly, if your feet don't follow up when you grab the rope, you'll fall. This tragedy happened to 02. Falling would have been a minor issue, but the worst part was that when 02 fell, as she frantically grabbed at the top of the small slope, she pulled the entire cable, and the plug snapped out. All the beginners who were holding onto the ropes and climbing up the mountain suddenly lost their footing and fell flat on their faces – a true nightmare. 02 struggled to get up, forcing himself to remain calm, frantically searching for his snowshoes that had flown off somewhere, not daring to utter a word, hoping that others would think he was Japanese or Korean (02 was often mistaken for this and would chatter away in Japanese to him).

The third day involved a real lift ride up the mountain. His wife wanted to back out, but his husband encouraged her repeatedly, finally getting her to agree to bring her private coach. Thinking about how much tuition they had paid, he repeatedly told the coach to stay close and follow him closely, and if anything went wrong, he wouldn't let it go. Hey! He fell down and just lay there, waiting for the coach to help him up, with only one thought in his mind: "He needs to lose weight, I feel so bad for him!" And so, 02 completed her first and only three-hour real downhill skiing experience (you won't believe it, but she actually performed exceptionally well during those three hours, except for one time when her brakes failed. Instinctively, she immediately used her human horn and sped straight towards the crowd waiting for the lift like a bowling ball. Luckily, the people on the mountain were far more skilled than those practicing on the cable cars on small slopes, otherwise, it would have been a strike).

From then on, every Christmas, the four of us would go skiing in Whistler with full gear. Upon arrival, we would always immediately book an instructor for our two kids. The next morning, we'd help them put on their helmets and armor, carry their gear, and hand them over to the instructor. Then came the happiest time for the two elders: back at the hotel, the old man would read or do his homework, the wife would go back to sleep, and at 3 pm sharp, we'd pick up the kids, book their lessons for the next day, and then begin our family leisure activities. Many friends told us that if we just skied one more time, our skills would be solid, and we could easily enjoy the fun of skiing. Unfortunately, this time the husband and wife were adamant in their inability to keep up, both politely declining and admitting they couldn't do it.

Lin Li, February 2, 2006

Photos from our first family skiing trip.

Carrying a huge camcorder and a traditional Canon EOS camera across the snow, just to capture the two kids skiing, to leave them with some memories for the future, was quite a chore.

At 3 pm sharp, we went to pick up the kids. The husband took the photos, and the wife took the pictures. We had to constantly guess whether the people skiing down the mountain were actually ours. We really should have dressed them in easily recognizable outfits. There were frequent false alarms; we mistook them for strangers and took a bunch of photos of people we didn't recognize. When the kids actually appeared, it was a flurry of activity. I had to keep a steady hand on the camera, keeping the lens focused, while also carefully avoiding slipping and falling myself. The photography mission was only successfully completed when they skied right up to us.

Next, we saw Mom draped in the gloves, hats, and goggles of the two kids, her arms dragging along skis and polos.

Dad was responsible for serving hot drinks and carrying those incredibly heavy ski boots. The two kids chattered away about their adventures on the mountain, looking forward to tomorrow's lessons. Mom and Dad finally felt their money hadn't been wasted, and they were happy to be their maids.

Back at the hotel, it was a completely different scene. All the ski clothes were drying on the floor, each person having their own spot so they could quickly find their gear and get dressed the next morning.

Except for their first time at Heavenly, where the couple played the role of complete novices, from then on, they were always there to help their son learn, their diligence and attentiveness rivaling that of the servants of old.

April 3, 2007

2006/06/01

一等一勤務兵
中文原文：https://www.4thgrader.net/blog/e15096/8709.htm

First Class Serviceman

I chatted casually with Li Yuling about my harrowing experiences getting my two kids to school in the mornings. Unexpectedly, this quick-witted writer sent me her freshly published, still-warm article, "Modern Parents Part Three" (see her latest book, "The Little World of Pink Flowers," page 90. For more of Yuling's lively and engaging writings from the past five years, please email 4thgrader@gmail.com. Limited quantities available, so don't miss out!), and remarkably, it included our family's morning routine. Touched, I decided to meticulously record those crucial five minutes that get every cell in my body ready, so my children can reminisce about them with friends or other children thirty years from now.

Nothing is more urgent than getting on the bus—Our Morning Routine

"Time" plays an extremely important role here; not a single second can be miscalculated!

Normally, our family has at least eight or ten devices that display the time. Video recorders, microwave ovens, bedside clocks, stereos, watches, mobile phones, computers... every device displays a different time. Some are intentionally made to run fast, while others have become inaccurate over the years. Only the user truly knows the extent of the adjustment and the reliability of each time. Most of the time, accuracy isn't as important as the sense of urgency. However, over time, people become complacent, and a sense of wishful thinking arises, hoping that the time they're following is faster than expected, even a little earlier than the actual time. But this "close enough" mentality of wishful thinking is completely unacceptable when helping children catch the school bus every morning, because "a small difference can lead to a huge error," and school bus drivers are incorruptible and won't wait for latecomers. Decisions and actions based on incorrect information can have dire consequences, a common occurrence in the workplace, and a stark example in daily life. At this point, the whole family not only has to find the most reliable clock but also constantly and nervously check the time with emergency services. (Later, to solve the problem once and for all and for easy timekeeping, I found this website, and I no longer have to doubt whether the time is accurate to the second. http://wwp.greenwichmeantime.com/time-zone/usa/pacific-time/)

------I live near National Taiwan University, and my school is in Tianmu. A one-way Yellow Cab taxi costs NT$300.

------School bus route: This building is the starting point. It departs at 6:40 AM and arrives at school at 7:35 AM.

------My home is on the 18th floor, with two elevators. It takes a little time to get to the 1st floor.

------My two children inherited their mother's habit of going to bed late and waking up late, and they won't get out of bed until the last minute.

------I get up at 6:20 AM, brush my teeth, shower, wash my hair, put on contact lenses, change clothes, put on makeup, pack my backpack, rush downstairs, and get on the bus. All of this must be done within 20 minutes. And the two kids also like to fight over the same bathroom.

All of this combined makes catching the school bus in the morning a precisely calculated, unavoidable battle. In the early years, I, as a mother, adopted a laissez-faire approach. My main task in the mornings was waking up my two children, and after they got up, the children were completely in control of their own time, which often led to close calls. My usual strategy was for one of us to go downstairs first, letting the bus monitor know that the other one would definitely arrive, and we absolutely couldn't let the school bus leave. One time, my son was so pressed for time that by the time he got to the first floor, the school bus had already left. I stood on the balcony and watched him, so small, carrying a large, heavy trombone, sprint to the next stop (the school bus usually has to wait at a red light before reaching the next stop, and also needs to let students board, so there's always a chance to catch the bus). I realized that in a moment of urgency, amazing potential can be unleashed. As the boarding time was moved from 6:50 to 6:40, this 10-minute difference greatly helped the school bus avoid traffic jams and arrive at school on time; however, for those who love to sleep in, the struggle to get out of bed was also very painful. To avoid the agonizing rush to catch the school bus in the morning, and the potentially disastrous consequences of missing it (tension, frustration, financial loss, and disruption to pre-work routines), I ultimately had to abandon my consistent principles of "no compromise, no leniency, and no spoiling" in raising my children. This led to a years-long "morning duty soldier" routine.

06:36:00 My second-class maid and I have put aside all our work and are fully prepared for the next five minutes of seamless teamwork.

06:37:00 The countdown begins, with constant reminders: "Only x minutes left, time to go downstairs!"

06:37:30 I keep raising my voice, asking, "Are you ready? Can we press the elevator button?"

06:38:00 If they are too busy to answer, I automatically observe their dressing progress, and decisively press the elevator button to call it up.

06:38:30 The elevator is moving upwards. If the first-class orderly is in charge of the elevator, they will thoughtfully report the floor it's on: "Twelfth floor!", "Fifteenth floor!", "The elevator is almost here!", "The elevator is here!", letting the prince and princess know how much time they have left. (Occasionally, when they come out and the elevator hasn't arrived yet, they can't help but feel a pang of regret. How could they be so extravagant as to stand there waiting? How could their coordination not be perfect? ​​You can see the orderly is almost obsessed with his work!)

06:39:00 Open all the shoe cabinet doors, making all the shoes visible. Also, fully open the front door, even if the mess in the house might shock the neighbors, don't worry about that; create an unobstructed space so the two children can rush straight to the elevator from their room without any hindrance.

06:39:30 The prince and princess rush out of their room, grabbing a pair of shoes matching their outfits in each hand, and head straight for the waiting elevator. The orderly holding the elevator button must quickly step aside and make way, ensuring they are not blocked in the slightest. There is ample time to put on shoes and get ready in the elevator from the 18th floor to the 1st floor. Another orderly (usually a first-class orderly) must be quick-witted, rapidly rattling off questions like, "Do you need your trombone?", "Did you bring your cell phone?", "Did you bring your homework?"... Even they themselves find it tedious, but every now and then, someone will suddenly rush out of the elevator to retrieve something they were reminded to forget. At this point, the first-class orderly, despite their seemingly minor role, will feel a sense of awe and admiration for their repeated successes. Who would dare complain about their tediousness?

06:40:00 As soon as the prince/princess enters the elevator, the first-class orderly immediately rushes to the intercom to notify the first-floor guard that those who were supposed to go downstairs have already done so, and that the school bus must not be allowed to leave.

Sometimes the above process needs to be repeated twice. The process begins with one orderly going downstairs to reassure the bus monitor; then, the same steps are repeated upstairs to help the other orderly down. Usually, the second-class orderly accompanies the second orderly downstairs at this point, partly to get the morning paper and partly to assist with any unexpected situations that might arise in the elevator. In short, the orderly must be on high alert, ready to fill in at any time, acting as a double agent for the school bus or rushing upstairs to help with errands.

06:41:00 At this point, it seems everything is settled, and the orderly can finally breathe a sigh of relief, but in reality, they cannot. Their nerves remain on edge, unable to relax.

At this crucial moment, the door must not be locked. Often, while watching to see if the school bus has reached the next stop, a sudden gust of wind bursts through the door, and a chill runs down your spine—"Someone must have forgotten something!" Without hesitation, all words are superfluous (note). A dash to the elevator to hold it open, disregarding others needing the elevator, civic virtue forgotten. Just wait for that forgetful idiot to dash into the room, out, and into the elevator in one swift motion. Only then can you see whether it was the princess or the prince who made this blunder. Only after seeing the school bus arrive at the second stop, confirming whether they've made it or not, and whether they've forgotten anything, can you finally relax. Of course, occasionally the phone rings quickly, and the orderly's heart tightens again, knowing with certainty that something has been forgotten. Once, the princess even instructed the orderly over the phone to find the file on the computer and email it to her account, so she could retrieve the forgotten homework file when she arrived at school.

06:42:00 If an unsuspecting person were to visit at this time, walking from the front door to the children's room, they would surely think it had just been ransacked. The doors were wide open, wardrobes and drawers were completely exposed, clothes were scattered all over the bed and table, and the children had left in a panic—the reason is obvious.

(Note) This is the most bizarre part. Whenever the children have lost things, their room is a complete mess like a pigsty, and they leave the house like they're fleeing a disaster (all appliances, including lights, computer, stereo, air conditioner, fan, etc., are all on), the mother will inevitably nag them. If she's in a bad mood, she'll immediately stop them, saying, "Don't leave until you've tidied up!" But every morning when the two kids leave for school, they're the most important people in the family. The mother and the Filipino maid are at their beck and call. It's not that they don't complain, but the urgency leaves no time to even speak. Nothing is more urgent than rushing to catch the bus. The mother not only has to suppress her frustration but also employs the high level of wisdom she uses to earn a living while working. She meticulously plans every possible scenario, even devising backup plans in case she misses the bus—which stop to drive to and how to catch the other half of the journey. By the time she gets home from work and has time to review these plans, she's too exhausted to speak. Therefore, the "first-rate" servant is undoubtedly the mother.

At this moment, I can't help but miss the old days: green uniforms, black skirts, watermelon rinds (referring to the shape of a watermelon rind), 101 pairs of black shoes, a dictionary without even the word "skincare products," let alone "cosmetics," and not even knowing what "contact lenses" were. There was no need to choose clothes, use hairspray, shave, apply powder, draw eyebrows, or search the sink for glasses. Five minutes from waking up to leaving the house was enough!

Therefore, I never answer the phone before my two children leave home in the early morning; but as soon as they step into the elevator and are out of sight, if the phone rings, I rush to answer it immediately, lest I miss their last-minute request for help. I'm recording this astonishing morning routine so I can ask my father-in-law for credit in the future. Please forgive our impoliteness, everyone; any phone ringing at that time could trigger a heart attack!

Dear brothers and sisters, our blogs and emails operate 24/7, 24 hours a day and 7 days a week. It's a global operation; when someone is asleep, someone else is awake to take over. No matter how late I parted ways with everyone the day before, from 6:20 AM to 6:45 AM, I will faithfully fulfill my "motherly rights" at home. Please, please don't call to check up on me!

Over the years, morning classes have been one of the few instances where "a mother's right" has been implemented quite thoroughly. This has even trained my child to never use an alarm clock. No matter what time she went to bed the night before, she always wakes up naturally at 6:20 am on weekdays and automatically oversleeps on weekends. She oversleeps no more than three times a year on school days. Once, I woke up with a start, looked at the clock, and exclaimed, "Mommy, it's already 6:35!" I rushed into my second child's room, yelling, "Get up quickly! We're running late! Only five minutes left!" This woke everyone up in a fright. Incredibly, my second child still managed to get on the school bus at 6:40 am—five minutes! Only five minutes! From getting up to getting on the bus, only five minutes! Now I finally understand how a cornered dog will jump over the wall!

Lin Li

10/15/05

After my older sister went to university in the US in August 2005, my duties as a discipline officer didn't lessen at all. Without a "school bus" partner to look after her younger brother, every morning became increasingly perilous. Besides the original domestic helper and mother, even her grandmother joined the task force. One managed the elevator (calling it up, watching it reach the first floor, and reporting "Elevator has arrived on the first floor"), another monitored the balcony to see if the school bus had left (if the bus didn't leave within seconds of receiving the "Elevator has arrived on the first floor" notification, it meant they had made it), and yet another unleashed her nagging skills (this job required immense perseverance and unwavering courage, truly deserving of the title of "a first-rate service worker"), frequently urging the little prince on with a combination of gentle persuasion and firm pressure. Occasionally, she even had to shuttle between the elevator balcony and use the intercom to ask the security guard downstairs to emphasize to the school bus escort that they would be coming down soon. After many such incidents, even the security guard joined the task force, proactively observing the elevator's activity; if the child had entered the elevator, they would ask the school bus to wait. Once, they even used the walkie-talkie to remind us that the school bus had arrived. They really mobilized every available resource.

My younger son, being in his final year, stopped attending classes in early May, leaving only exams. So he no longer had to rush to catch the school bus early in the morning. Thank goodness, thank God, Mazu, Buddha, Guanyin Bodhisattva….............................. My grandmother, domestic helper, security guard, and school bus guide can finally stop serving this wandering spirit. This concludes this article. A hundred years from now, when my second child reads this, I, the first-class orderly, hope they will look at each other and laugh, enjoying the tales of their youth.

Lin Li

05/15/07

2005 TAS Yearbook: Click the small image to enlarge, then click the bottom right corner for the full screen.

2005 TAS Yearbook: Click the small image to enlarge, then click the bottom right corner for the full screen.

2005 TAS Yearbook: Click the small image to enlarge, then click the bottom right corner for the full screen.

2005 TAS Yearbook: Click the small image to enlarge, then click the bottom right corner for the full screen.

In elementary school, we all took tricycles to school. Some classmates walked, some were driven by private cars, and some took the school bus. I remember the latter three families were generally wealthier, allowing them to live close to the school or take those kinds of transportation. However, I only envied those who took the school bus, because when we were late and stood in the back row of the classroom, the school bus students would just walk in without being punished.

School bus tardiness is not a crime. School buses can arrive late, but they must never leave early.

If a child misses the school bus because of this, parents can file a complaint with the school.

This is why morning classes completely revolve around the central standard time. As long as the departure time hasn't arrived, the sky won't fall.

In August 2005, a journey of reminiscing began when I took my daughter to school. That day, at Fu Xianyu's house, I met many classmates I hadn't seen for over 30 years, and I also saw everyone's next generation.

Four years have passed, and my daughter is graduating.

April 20, 2009

身為職業婦女，去TAS都是爲了攝影拍照，準備提供先生退休後慢慢看，如同好東西捨不得穿用，最後完全沒機會，很諷刺。

除非因爲孩子要到家裏玩，與其他家長零交流，幾乎都不認識。

有一個好笑的故事。

因爲02非常盡責，只要有孩子的表演或活動都會不顧形象，事前先做功課，問清楚孩子們在舞臺上的位置，免得離舞臺遠，太多人在舞臺上，鏡頭中都很像，擔心眼睛昏花搞錯對象，一直拍別人的孩子，早早到才能選有利取景又不擋人的位置，從頭拍到尾。

有一天02又出現在學校活動中，正聚精會神準備接下來要完成的錄影任務時，一位行政人員前來對02說幾天前的表演，學校例行錄影出了狀況沒成功，留意到02全程舉著大炮攝影機或坐或站緩慢移動手臂脚步(以免晃動厲害觀看時看的人暈眩想吐)搏命演出，問是否可以借02拍的帶子轉錄。

02當然應允，只是那次所有拿到VCD的人會發現多數鏡頭都集中在一個人(好像是Alan)身上，要看到自己的孩子必須要運氣好，最好就在Alan旁邊，被掃到的機會多很多。

02紀錄於2026年1月13日


19891005 United States 3D Puzzle Map completed by SW