Passing a Shufa Master

I teach a 15 year-old Chinese boy on Sundays, Peter. He's a very smart kid and his English isn't bad either. He's really into science.

Actually, Peter is lucky. He's what they call "Balinghou" or a "Nineties Child" in China. He's grown up with more, in terms of material wealth than most Chinese kids have in all of history. Except for the emperors' kids.

Speaking of emperors, since China adopted its one child policy, they call these only children "Little Emperors" and "Little Princesses", as their parents and families doting and spoiling and hopes all go to them and no other siblings.

Peter is definitely a little Emperor and while his parents are strict with him at times, he gets a lot of attention, as would befit royalty. He also gets an expensive English teacher.

After our lessons, his parents always ask him to walk me out and today as we walk to the corner and chat in English, I spot an old man walking toward us. I notice in his hand a large shufa (calligraphy) brush, the kind that is dipped in water and used in parks by shufa masters.

In most large parks in China on Sunday mornings, you can see many of them writing Chinese characters with their brushes. People, old and young, walk by and admire and comment on their style. Such is the importance of the Chinese character and calligraphy in Chinese culture. (And as everyone knows, I love shufa.)

Peter, as always, is happy-go-lucky, skipping a little to the left or the right, smiling goofily. Perhaps he is happy that English class is over or that both his parents are home and that it's dinner time on a Sunday evening. Do you remember that giddiness you had as a kid? I do.

The shufa master notices Peter's animated way and a slight, slow motion smile comes to his face as he watches Peter go by.

I notice the old shufa master and I must have a similar smile on mine.