When did we begin to press him and why the change of mindset?

Perhaps the change came after we were invited to the kindergarten several times to see how the children performed in class. I was annoyed because my son reacted much slower to the teachers' instructions than the few smart-looking kids.

While the "top" students yelled out every Chinese and English word the teachers showed on cards, my son didn't seem to know any answer, and he wasn't very interested in the repetitive teaching method.

Though I know each person is different in ability, I couldn't help getting upset, thinking my son hadn't excelled.

I compared him to other children in more aspects and jumped at the conclusion that my son will miss the chances to rise above the rest.

But then a thought struck me after the ent joke. What's the need of all this hurry? Suppose we live to 100 years old. That gives us some 3.15 billion seconds to breathe, eat, sleep, laugh, cry and do whatever that makes a human life complete.

Do I want to turn myself into an alarm clock and make a good part of my son's early life unhappy?

The invention of modern technology has sped up our lives in an incredible way. The best place to feel this speed is in literature and film.

When I spent months reading Lord of the Rings, I often wondered at Tolkien's sense of time. It took Treebeard week after week to drum up other ents to fight Saruman, the bad wizard. But Jackson shortened the process to a matter of several scenes.

The same happened with the Trojan War, which lasted 10 years in Homer's epics, but was terminated in a few days in the Hollywood blockbuster.

In our hurry to finish the stories, we have to delete countless details that should have made the tales wonderful; in our hurry to reach the next aims of life, we have tunnel vision and turn a blind eye to the beautiful scenery along the way.

With this revelation, I have gained more confidence not to press my son to memorize the abstract written characters, but to encourage him to climb the trees and rocks and befriend strangers we meet.

By living as ent-wife and ent-child that Treebeard so longed for, I am finally happy with my son.