Saturday evening traffic was heavy, doubling the usual drive time. My children had come over for my birthday, and after dinner, they wanted to Uber back. However, we insisted on driving them. It's always fun and refreshing to listen to their witty exchanges—something we don’t get to be part of every day.
I'm sure many parents have spent countless hours driving their kids around for various activities, before the kids could do it themselves. Having them in the car always brings back memories of their childhood.
For some reason, I tend to think of car rides as putting them under a gentle house arrest, where for the duration of the trip, they can't go anywhere and are stuck listening to whatever I have to say. And I never miss this moment.
It was during these car rides that so many memorable moments were created: reciting timetables, ancient Chinese poems, telling Chinese stories, or just having casual conversations. They were always busy, so parents had to seize those fleeting moments.
These small, seemingly insignificant moments spent with the children—whether during a car ride or in the simple routine of daily life—are where lasting values and lessons often take root. Just like the rain in Du Fu’s poem, 随风潜入夜，润物细无声 (Suí fēng qián rù yè, rùn wù xì wú shēng), which describes rain quietly nourishing all plants at night, our guidance may seem subtle, almost unnoticed, but it seeps in over time, quietly nurturing their growth.
This reminds me of an event I mentioned before—my encounter at the YMCA women’s locker room, where I saw an Indian mother drilling mental math with her little girl while helping her shower.
By the way, last Sunday I received an unexpected and delightful birthday wish from an old classmate from my Tianjin days. It was a small but joyful surprise—every one of them counts, just like those car ride moments.
Finally, it's these gentle influences, woven into the everyday, that shape our children in ways we might never fully see but can trust will endure.