Adeline Yen Mah's "Chinese Cinderella"

Two full days away from work is a rare occurence. I had that this weekend. What better way to spend it than curl up in bed and read a good book.
Breakfast at bff yesterday acquainted me with adeline yen mah's chinese cinderella. The book was sitting atop the television (showing eclipse) and was meant to be an assignment reading to the resident colegiala who was only too glad to have her reading postponed for a week.
while my housemate monopolized the television watching two people punch each other senseless for thirty minutes or so, I popped some corn and brewed six cups of coffee to tide me through in the next three or four hours.

Just a few pages from the cover and my heart was already ripped in two. The poor child, blamed for the death of her mother. Who forced them (the parents) anyways to make a baby in the first place?

Page after page, I quelled the tears that threatened to flood. Oh to be young and so alone. Imagine your name or birthday to be forgotten by your own father. Imagine being hit for an entirely insane reason of keeping faces. The nerve of the stepmother to sermon on austerity when she splurged on every little thing. She was the devil personified.

The harrowing accounts could have destroyed a person of lesser courage. Adeline could have killed the woman in rage or she could have gone mad. Yet, she chose to look on the brighter side of things, hold on to the people (her grandfather and aunt) who hold her dear and worked very hard to make her only dream come true, make her dad proud.