Hongbo Zhang

Professor Keeler

WR 39A

October 18, 2021

                                                                      Life Lesson of My 9^th Grade

   In 2016, I came to US to begin my high school study at Atlanta when I was at the age of 14. Moving to a country that I haven’t been before, everything was new for me, the food, the people, the surroundings, and the culture. My high school is a Christian school and of course the school scheduled me to live with a Christian family so that I can better fit in the Christian community because I’m not a believer. Even today, I can still recall the vivid scene of first time meeting them in their house.

   “Hi, Mrs. Beck! What should I call you? Just Mrs. Beck or can I call you mum? I asked her this question while stepping into her house with a giant suitcase in my hand.

   “Yes, my boy you can surely call me mum.” She answered with an amiable smile on her face welcoming me joining her family (Somehow years later she told me that “mum” is a more British way than “mom”).

   Then my daily life was fulfilled with all kinds of praying and worship. We would hold hands together being grateful for the food on the table and sharing wishes to the God. I always opened my eyes to observe others curiously when I was supposed to have my eyes closed. In my fifteen years of life before coming here, I had never been familiar with Christian community. So, it was not too easy for me to accept the brand-new concept of God and Jesus. When I was lying on bed at nights, starring at the roof, I often wondered if God could truly hear the prayers and wondered if the wishes we made to him could become true, and doubted if everything we did was meaningful and worthy.

   Most of the time, mum was kind and sweet and treated me as her own son. But some occasions were like the other side of her awaking from deep sleep.

   “Tom, if you fall asleep again when God Father is speaking next week, I will take your laptop away for entire week!” Mum said to me disappointed.

   I swear to God that I didn’t mean to fall asleep in church and being disrespectful, I just couldn’t help it. Because normally I would stay up late playing video games the night before going to church. Come on mum, you know it’s Saturday night, this is what teenagers do, I thought to myself.

   The next Sunday, I went to the morning class in church and drank a lot coffee to keep me awake. I even had a bubble gum in my mouth to keep me chewing so that I won’t fall asleep. We sat down and was ready to hear the speech given by God Father. I smiled victoriously to mum and gave her a thumb up. I was confident and determined. I thought I could make it, but I failed mum again.

   I starred at God Father trying to hear every word he said. But my English back then wasn’t good enough to understand everything he said. I could barely understood. Then the holy speech became like bedtime stories sang me to sleep. My eyelids begun getting heavier and the words became mumble to me. Yes, I fell asleep again. Mum woke me up when the speech was over. The gum was not in my mouth, I must had swallowed it.

   “I’m keeping your laptop this week.” she said so and she did so. She was angry and I tapped my head down all the way home without saying a word. I felt guilty.

   But the funny thing is that I sometimes saw dad sleeping as well. Is him being disrespectful? I think the answer is no. Let’s think this in a different perspective, we are praying to God even in our sleep.

   I used to ask mum all kinds of silly questions trying to challenge God in her belief. I once asked her if she believes in aliens.

   “Mum, the Bible says God only created humans and animals. But think how big the universe is. There must be other life forms than humans, don’t you think so?”

   I’m not sure son, I think you might be right. The universe is big, pretty big. But there is no solid evidence proving that there are aliens. At least I don’t think I get to see one in the rest of my life. Maybe one day you can my boy.” She answered to me after a few minutes of deep thinking.”

   This is not the answer I want to hear. I want to hear her saying “yeah son God might not exist.”

   “If you were not born into a Christian family, would you still believe in God?”

   I asked mum this question one day night while she was sitting on her favorite chair reading the book for her once a week book club. Though I was open to the experience of saying grace and going to church on weekends with mum and dad, prayers were more like etiquette to me. I wanted to respect them and their culture, and I wanted to be a real part of the family. But I still saw religion as a sort of superstition with no actual effect on real life.

   She was silent for a moment, and then I was struck by her answer.

   “I might not be,” she paused, “but there's no harm in believing in God. My entire life, I have believed and obeyed the Ten Commandments and tried hard to be a good person. Even if I die and there's no heaven and God, I am still a good person who contributes to society; and if there is heaven and heavenly God, then jackpot!”

   I suddenly realized that it was pointless to try to prove whether God exists or not. The good characters in religion spiritually energize people’s desire for betterment, and God is the embodiment of the best qualities, setting the pace. To believe in God is to believe ourselves.     

   Her words further reminded me of my personal experience with religion in China: Buddhism. We often visit temples on the first day of the new year to make wishes. As a student, I wish for good scores and as a son, I wish health and happiness for my family and friends. Why am I not a believer but still pray like those who trust Buddha or God? Then I recognized that people’s hope for a better future is universal. Though Western and Eastern religions have different disciplines and doctrines.

   This experience not only equipped me with a deeper insight into religion, but also taught me open-mindedness and sympathy. I am still not a believer, but understanding religion has made me a better person.