Holly, my wife,cannot cook. She is capable of the process of cooking, but she cannot cook in the same way that an octopus (章鱼) cannot ride a bike.

One time, I walked into the kitchen to find Holly making toast. I generally feel safe eating toast that Holly has made because it boasts nothing but few steps. But this toast was a bit thin and tough.

“It’s a bit thin and tough,” I said. “What bread is this?”

“It’s the same bread we always have,” Holly said, pointing to the bag.

“Oh, my God!” I cried. “It has a best-by date of January 2009.”

“It was in the freezer,”Holly said. “The best-by date doesn’t count if the product is frozen.”

“But still there is a limit for frozen food,” I responded, holding up a slice of bread which felt like a stone.

“No, there isn’t,” she replied. “I once saw a show where scientists found a rare animal frozen in ice for millions of years. They melted it, cooked it, and ate it.”

“That is why it is called a show,” I cried.

“You never appreciate anything I do,” replied Holly.

“That’s not true,” I said. “I appreciate everything you do. You’re a beautiful, kind, thoughtful person. But if I ordered a hamburger at McDonald’s and they handed it to me, saying, ‘Sorry, it was a bit tough because the bread had been stored for nearly 10 years,’ I would assume there was something wrong with the restaurant staff.”

“It would probably be good with me,” responded Holly, holding out her hands.“But you would never know whether the guy at McDonald’s spent an hour in the kitchen making it for you and burned his thumb on a pan.”

“Fine,” I sighed, raising it to my mouth. “I’ll taste it.” Taking the brown and yellow bread, I had a strong burning feeling like having a mouthful ofred ants. I swallowed with effort as my eyes began to water.

“Yes,” said Holly. “We were out of cream, so I used pepper from Sichuan, China instead.”

At an airport I happened to hear a father and daughter in their last moments together. Standing near the door, he said to his daughter, “I love you, I wish you enough.” She said, “Daddy, your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too.” They kissed good-bye and she left.

He walked toward the window where I was seated. I could see he wanted to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?”

“Yes,” I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of my Dad. Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him how much he meant to me. So I knew what this man was experiencing.

“When you were saying good-bye I heard you say, ‘I wish you enough.’ May I ask what that means?” He began to smile. “That’s a wish handed down from my parents.” Looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more.

“When we said ‘I wish you enough’, we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with enough good things,” he continued the sharing. “I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.”

He then stood up and walked away.

When I was a kid, my family farmed 200 acres with mules (骡子), and the most naughty one was Tobe. It’d frequently jump out and run around. But when asked why he liked it, Dad would say, “When it comes to farm work, Tobe comes up to standard.”

Dad died when I was 11, and we had to sell the farm. Those were hard years, but Mom managed to give me my first music lesson. Before long our neighbors liked my songs so much that I decided to make a career in singing.

At 17 I left home for a radio station in Jackson and this job made me discover how inexperienced I was. I made up my mind that I would practice until I came up to standard. I took a job as a driver. With 8 hours spent in the car, I could spend the rest of the time practicing. Finally, when I was good enough, I began playing for audiences nationwide.

By now, I had two kids and I knew what a family was without a dad, so I quit the performances and entered the most depressing (令人消沉的) years of my life with all the clothing, homework, and duties around the house. That was when I thought about Tobe. It was self-willed, but in the field, where it mattered, Tobe came up to standard. So I started listening and made a discovery. My kids’ lifestyle may be different. But where standards are concerned (涉及) — for things like honesty and courage — they often do better than some of us.

Not long ago my son Dick told me he was going to apply for a job at a TV station. “ I know the general manager. I’ll put in a good word for you,” I said. “I’d rather go alone,” he replied. “If I’m not good enough yet to do the job, I shouldn’t get it.” Then I realized he wanted to be up to standard. I felt proud the minute he came home shouting, “ Dad, I got the job!”