Eric's Beijing Diary

This morning, we hiked to the top of the hill on the other side of the freeway from the orphanage. The trail leading up the mountain was a beautiful Via Dolorosa, with the traditional 14 stations of the cross. Walking that trail, I couldn't help thinking of the Man of Sorrows struggling with the cross as he walked toward the place of his death. Except that He wasn't walking a desert mountain trial between the juniper, and feeling the cool breeze from the valley below.

At the top of the hill, there is an archway. On the front side of the archway is written, in Chinese characters, "The Gate to Heaven." On the back side, "The Sinners Hope." The way through the archway leads to a church built in the style of traditional Chinese architecture.

We met the kind lady who is in charge of the guest house. She is talkative and very friendly. She is from a traditional Catholic family (Shanxi is a very Catholic province), but she really seems to be a sincere person who has a relationship with the Lord. Anyway, she told us how her family had been persecuted and their home destroyed during the Cultural Revolution. She had a crucifix in her hand, with several notches, which she said were created when the Red Guards tried to hack it to pieces. After our visit to the church, we headed down the mountain. I strayed off the trail a bit, because I was very curious about the old abandoned Franciscan monastery at the foot of the hill. With the coming of the Communist revolution, the Franciscans were kicked out of China. The monastery has now been reclaimed by the local diocese, but it is still being inhabited by local villagers. It is a near perfect replica of a Medieval monastery, complete with courtyard, garden, and tower. It looks like it was built a thousand years ago, but it probably dates from the Nineteenth Century, sometime between the American Civil War and the revolution of 1911.

This afternoon, Satellite's (one of the caretakers at the orphanage) brother came with a sack of millet. Satellite had asked him to ride the bus here to bring the millet as a gift for us. She does not have money. Her salary is less than $40 a month. But she is a very soft-hearted lady, and she wanted to give us something. I was impressed with the trouble she had gone to give us this token of her friendship. I have seen this kind of friendship over and over again from country people. I was walking on one of the roads near the orphanage today, and I came across a few boys playing ping pong by the side of the road. In front of the village store, there was an old, old pool table with the felt scraped off to expose the bare slate, and a row of bricks on edge down the middle of the table. They invited me to join them. I learned very quickly that these boys could play a pretty good game of table tennis. And I learned that a bunch of Chinese village kids know what to do with a pool table.