My Early Life

In 1987, my mother was unexpectedly diagnosed with Meniere’s disease and couldn’t get out of bed; she had to rely on others for care. At that time, my father was working in a construction team in Jinan, returning only once or twice every couple of weeks. My sister was just eight years old and still needed to go to school, so she didn’t have the time to take care of my mother. My uncle asked his eldest daughter to come over with 200 yuan (which was already considered a lot) to help take care of my mother, cooking meals for her and feeding her.

My mother was only 35 years old at the time, and she thought that one shouldn’t just wait to die; she wanted to find a way to get better. However, my father’s monthly salary was only around 30 yuan, and as a farmer, my mother didn’t earn much either, so there wasn’t any savings in the family. Therefore, my father had to go borrow money.

At that time, I hadn’t even been born yet. In Shandong, which is a place where boys are highly valued, our family was essentially seen as childless. My father was also someone with not much ability and a short temper. It seemed like the relatives thought that if they lent us money, my father wouldn’t be able to pay it back. After going around to several relatives, my father came back empty-handed.。

In rural areas, neighbors are very familiar with each other and often visit each other. The family next door were my father’s cousin’s household, whom I called Uncle and Aunt. Aunt frequently came to our home for visits. After hearing about my mother’s illness, one day she suddenly came over excitedly and told my mother that she heard of a church somewhere where people believe in Jesus. They say that if you believe in Jesus, your sickness will be healed. She suggested my mother try it.

My mother thought, since she was just waiting to die at home anyway, she might as well give it a try.

So Aunt used the rural tricycle (地排车) to push my mother to the church in that village.

Specifically what they talked about on that day, my mother doesn’t remember clearly. The only thing she remembers is that the people there said that they are all sinners and need to confess their sins and repent, and then God will forgive them of all their sins and heal them. They also said that they should pray to God.

After returning home, my mother started praying to God, saying “God, I am a sinner, please save me.”。

The next day, my mother recovered and was able to get out of bed and walk. A few days later, she fully recovered.

From then on, my mother began to believe in Jesus and became the first Christian in our village.

Two years later, my mother became pregnant with me. Just before giving birth to me, there was a small incident: my mother and Aunt went to the market. On their way back, they were hit by someone riding a bicycle. Aunt was frightened and immediately grabbed that person, saying, “You’ve caused an accident today; did you know she is pregnant?” The person was also terrified upon hearing this. However, my mother felt it wasn’t too serious, just having some stomach pain, so she let the person go.

They then went to our village midwife. After checking, the midwife said the baby’s head was positioned correctly and advised going to the hospital immediately. My mother felt at ease and said, “Why go to the hospital? Everything is fine.”

Indeed, everything turned out fine the next day.

Shortly after, I was born.

As mentioned earlier, my father was working in Jinan at that time, so he didn’t have much time to spend with me. I mostly spent my time following my mother to church gatherings and listening to her read the Bible and pray with her. My faith formation is largely due to my mother’s influence—99% of it. Since our family was poor, we had little time for television or other entertainment. Before starting school, most of my free time was spent going to church with my mother. I am grateful to God for those early years when I envied others who had televisions and entertainment. Now, I am more thankful that I learned about Jesus so young.

I believe that the state of faith in a family can really have a great impact on children. My mother didn’t make me read scriptures or pray daily like a pastor or preacher, but she established a relationship with God for me through her own actions, allowing me to feel His presence.

To be honest, I actually don’t like the atmosphere in the church. Because people often start praying and end up crying, and I feel that some pastors have such piercing eyes that make me uncomfortable. Once during a hall meeting, my mother stayed until the end, but I left early feeling unfree.

Although I thought this way, God still granted me great blessings.

When I was a couple of years old, the cousin’s sister in our village got married. Since that cousin’s mother was good friends with my mom, she invited my mom to help make quilts. While the adults were talking, I held onto my mom’s arm and started playing, causing it to dislocate suddenly.

They then had to take me to find someone who could set the bone, but for some reason, whether because that person wasn’t at home or another reason, we didn’t end up going. The adults went into the house to make quilts.

Making quilts requires laying out a large space and everyone working together to sew them. With my arm in pain, I sat dejectedly on the side. After some time, wanting to use the bathroom, I stood up and walked towards it, accidentally falling down. When I got up again, I discovered that my arm was no longer dislocated. Excitedly, I shouted, “Look, my arm is healed.”

This was the first time I knew about God.

Another time, when I was about 3 or 4 years old, my mom was chatting with a neighbor’s auntie outside the house. During their conversation, my mom suddenly felt she needed to go home and said goodbye to that auntie before returning. Just as we reached the door but before opening it, we heard a woman’s cries from behind the house. My mom quickly brought me back in; I saw the woman who had been chatting with us bleeding heavily from her leg while crying and cursing. It turned out that a dog had suddenly run out and bit her.

Only then did my mom realize why she felt the need to go home earlier.

As I grew older, I gradually began to understand what faith is all about and started praying along with my mom. But I can’t remember how we prayed back then; the only thing I recall is that when I was sick as a child, my mom would ask whether I wanted to go to the hospital or pray. I mostly chose to pray.

I am grateful for God’s mercy because I’ve only had to receive intravenous treatment twice in my life, and other than minor injuries from being naughty, I haven’t needed to visit the hospital much.。

In third or fourth grade, I and my friends liked to go to the library to read books. One Saturday afternoon, we had planned to go together. I rode my bike, carrying one friend, and set off. That day, for some reason, I suddenly wanted to take a different route that wasn’t the usual path. When we arrived at the library, I waited for a long time but didn’t see the other friends. Only after they arrived did they tell me that on our way there, they had been robbed. Although there was no significant financial loss, it still scared us a lot, and all of our excitement to go to the library vanished.

[To be continued]