酷我-北美枫

I've revised my piece.

One does not inhabit a country; one inhabits a language.

-- Emile Cioran

People portrayed in the photoshow show their dignity in a unique way.

Yet, never, in extremity,
[they] asked a crumb of [people].

Thank all of you for reading and commenting my story.

A Chinese boy, who recently arrived in Toronto, had attended his all-English kindergarten for three months without uttering any word. His kindergarten teacher had tried hard to engage him in reading picture books, playing with other kids, singing songs in English, and playing with coloured building blocks. But he remained disengaged, sitting alone in the corner of the classroom, keeping silent all the time. Sometimes he would suddenly walk out of the class, crying for Ma. His distant, reticent attitude concerned his teacher, and she didn't know how to deal with his adaptation problem.

One day, the class took a field trip to the Toronto Zoo. In the section named the Kids' Zoo, the boy immediately spotted on a colourful python wrapped several times around a truck of a tree inside a big glassed-in display case. He pointed at the python and turned his head to his teacher, joyfully yelling, "Me know this! Teacher!" Everyone else turned to him, opening their mouths without uttering any word.

A Heartfelt poem.

An immigrant is a hard-exercising athlete, engaged in an on-going tug-of-war between a longing for home and an enthusiasm for the unhomely.

Just a thought.