Candid

It was a sunny spring day. The air was warm yet crisp, and the sky brimmed with an almost nostalgic yellow tint that was so familiar and comforting.

My children and I were vacationing with my parents' at their tranquil country club nestled in the green countryside of Hong Kong, an oasis amidst the busyness of the city of concrete and skyscrapers.

And there they were, my little angels,

treading on the very grounds where I spent many of my childhood days, experiencing the same refreshment from nature's peace and the same thrills of the outdoors. Their faces even lightened up the same way mine did when I first encountered and fell in love with the horses (it was a jockey club and we visited the horses at the stable).

Scenes of my childhood came flooding in, intersecting with my children's. It was a truly magical moment as I remembered and understood the pure innocent joy of a child, which embraces

each sight

each sound

each smell

with sheer wonder and gratitude.

And even in our more pensive moments,

we were wrapped in a comforting blanket of serenity that could only arise from childlike trust, which no worry or sorrow can invade.

I am immensely grateful of how I bonded with my children that day,

all of us being children together - content, secure, fulfilled children of God. This is extraordinarily special for me, for often times such simple and childlike joy in me gets smothered by adult worries and concerns, and I forget how happy I would be if I could become a child again.

And I'm grateful for my own parents, who doted on me (and my brother) with so much love, that it can only overflow to the next generation.