The advertisement appeared in my e-mail—“1-800-Flowers: Mother’s Day Madness —for just $39.99” I almost clicked on it, forgetting that those services would not be needed this year. My mother, Margaret Feiddman, died at the age of 89, and so this is my first Mother’s Day without my mom.

In my childhood, my mom appeared to be a typical suburban housewife of her generation. She sewed many of my sisters’ clothes, including both of their wedding dresses and boy’s suits for me. And on the side, she won several national bridge tournaments (桥牌锦标赛).

My mom left many indelible marks on me. The first was to never lose heart and to be independent. My dad died suddenly when I was 19. My mom worked hard for a couple of years. But in1975, I won a scholarship to study in Britain and my mom surprised us all by announcing that she decided to go with me. When I met difficulties, she always said: “You’re a man, so never lose heart, never be knocked down, and try your best to pursue (追求) your dreams.”

My mom’s other big influence on me is a sense of optimism (乐观). She had taken her knocks. But every time life knocked her down, she got up and kept on marching forward, encouraged by the saying that pessimists (悲观者) are usually right, optimists are usually wrong, but most great changes are made by optimists.

How I wish to listen to my mother’s words, and give my best regards on this Mother’s Day, but I have no chance now! My best friends, treasure (珍惜)your mother’s love!

The day I first came across a harp (竖琴) is a memory stored by all my senses. In contrast to the vivid color in which I recall this first encounter, I still remember my parents faces turning pale when I announced “I’m going to play the harp!” My parents’ faces reflected then financial fears. But they still rented me a little harp and hired a man to teach me.

I felt complete every time I played the harp. Then something happened: sheet music. Suddenly I had to learn this foreign language in order to continue to play. What was once an effortless pleasure turned into a constant struggle. My dyslexic (诵读困难的) brain fed on the beauty of the music but fought with the way it was taught. I soon found myself stuck in a love-hate relationship.

For my 16th birthday, my parents used their savings to buy me a harp, in the hope that it might settle my relationship with it. But in the weeks that followed the harp exploded.

The remains of the harp sat at the bottom of our stairs for several weeks. Eventually, my father and I built a fire to burn it. It felt strange to burn something that once represented so much, and we both sat there staring in silence. My father said “I know you find it hard to read music. But have you ever thought about just playing?” What he said changed everything for me, “Yeah, but I don’t have a harp anymore.”

Two weeks later, an old and small harp turned up. I threw away all my music books and started playing by ear and from the heart. All the passion came back. Music is so much more than dots (小圆点) on a page. If you feel it and are excited by it, stick to it. Had I let traditional music teaching techniques put me off playing the harp, I would have lost a part of myself.