at most time, I hold myself well and pretend to be not that emotional even I am about to cry and I just hold me harder, which I just feel that is a grown-up supposed to be like, and I just feel that is too cheap to get moved easily, which just makes thing too shallow or hollow.
while I am writing to my kid, sometimes I cannot hold any more, esp. while I watch his peaceful face during sleep, sometimes giving a quick smile indicating her good dream. I cannot hold that, and just want to keep things that way for as long as possible. And I believe that’s a sense of security for her, and also for myself.
when we grow old, we become more nostalgic and miss the old days, whatever good or bad. reading and writing just made me a sensitive young shy boy, or sensitivity, shyness just made me to read and to write. I enjoyed so much about raining, whenever I thought about that.
Raindrops were hitting the leaves with a best volume and sound, not that big, and not that small, just that good. Watching from the window on the raining, listening to the sound, I became so emotional and sad. I couldn’t hold myself but thinking how small and week we are, and started to miss a girl so much. And sometimes I even bursted into tears just when I knew raining was so much like tears. The tree in our yard became a bit dark, and leaves just were blown away onto the ground, and shining a bit. Raindrops got accumulated along the ground, become a small pool, while one or two leaves were flowing there.
I could stay for a whole day watching from the window and listening to the sound.
Charlie is also a sensitive boy, and special, or even is treated with mental illness. He sometimes ran out of himself, and just behaved in a weird manner as we think. But he is learning and growing, and participating in a good way. He holds himself a lot, or put this differently, he puts others before himself. Then Sam and Patrick taught him to be real with anyone whoever you want to please or not. His teacher has taught him a lot too, and praised him as special. He finally could be himself in some way and pursue what he wants.
Charlie is lucky, even when he was called as pervert(his sister), or freak. He is lucky because he encountered Sam and Patrick, he could share with his family, he could appreciate his aunt, he could meet a very good teacher who gave him so much great books to expose. Otherwise he might grow as a real freak or he just struggled too much and ended the same.
This is a good book about growing up, about identification finding, about love. It’s good that I can find a lot common from myself, which just reminds how good this book is.