I. The Journey of Sights and Sounds
Chapter 3: The Man on the Cross
Growing up in that flat apartment, my sister and brothers dressed in their uniforms on the weekdays to walk down to that school on Clay and Stockton. I later learned it was called St. Mary’s Catholic School.
I don’t know the reason why my parents sent us to Catholic school. My parents weren’t religious but respectful of their Chinese cultures and their deities as well as the Christian God. My parents never prayed at dinner nor read from the Bible to us. We didn’t own a Bible at least I never saw one in our home.
One day, the nuns came and took our class into the Chapel. It was so quiet, and I was so sacred. I saw a man on the cross behind the altar. I don’t recall what the nuns were saying that day but I knew it must be a very special place. As I looked at that man on the cross, I wondered who he was and why was he on the cross. I was drawn to that man on the cross even though I didn’t know who or why he was on the cross. It seem so sad to me. I didn’t understand. Later, my parents transferred us to public school when I was in third grade.
A priest named, Rev. Clarence Lee befriended my parents and we went to church on Sundays. The worship service was in Cantonese. I didn’t understand anything, except for a few phrases. I am sure he taught us Bible stories in English, but it didn’t mean anything to me. After attending that for several years, I attended Cameron House off and on. It was up the street from where we lived in an alley way. I recalled them reading from the Bible and telling stories about the Bible, but I was more interested in games than anything else. There was ping pong, basketball, board games as well as chess and checkers! It was fun playing hide and seek in that big building.
My aunt and uncle, called Aunty Kay and Uncle Bob, were very kind to us. She was my father’s younger sister. Every year they would send us a Christmas box. In it would be our Christmas gift with our names on it. It usually was a shirt or pants for us for each of us. My Mom would put those clothing in her wooden chest and from time to time she would bring one or two out for us to wear. We didn’t celebrate birthdays. There was no cake, birthday candles or gifts. It was just another day. We didn’t celebrate Christmas or Easter. No Christmas tree and no gifts. As I grew older, I learned that Jesus was born on Christmas Day and that Easter was the time that He died and rose again, but I still didn’t know why He was on the cross.