林榮峰 | Emily Lee
20‘’ X 16’’
題目 | Title： 曙光 | Dawn
曙光
八月二十一日，一個意外的跌倒，使我的生活突然慢了下來。
原來習以為常的走路、刷牙、出門、上課，一下子都變得不方便。生活被迫按下了慢速鍵，我也不得不停下腳步。
沒想到四天之後，八月二十五日，Dolly Parton離開了這個世界。
接下來的一個月，因為自己行動不便，我反而有很多時間坐下來，看著一篇又一篇關於Dolly的新聞，聽她的故事，也重新思想她走過的一生。
一個從貧困山區走出來的小女孩，穿著母親為她縫製的「彩色外袍」，曾經面對別人的嘲笑，卻沒有讓困境決定自己的一生。她把生命中的缺乏化為創作，把得到的恩賜化為祝福。當她離開之後，人們懷念的不只是她的歌聲，更是她曾經帶給別人的愛、希望與幫助。
我忽然問自己：
上帝啊，這一個月，祢是不是也在告訴我什麼？
也許這一跤，是讓我暫時停下腳步。
當我不能像往常一樣忙碌時，我才有時間安靜地看、安靜地想，也學習接受別人的照顧。丈夫的奔波、鄰居和姐妹送來的一份份食物與關懷，都使我看見：原來人在軟弱的時候，也可以成為別人表達愛的機會。
我們總以為人生的價值在於「我還能做多少事」，可是Dolly的離去提醒了我：真正留下來的，也許不是我們完成了多少事情，而是我們曾經把多少愛留在人間。
如今再看我的畫《曙光》，我有了不同的感受。
曙光不是沒有經歷黑夜。
正因為走過黑夜，第一線晨光才顯得如此珍貴。
我的跌倒，使我停下腳步；Dolly的離去，使我思想生命；而眼前的曙光，彷彿又提醒我：
生命仍在，上帝所給我的日子仍在。
只要清晨還有一線光，我就知道，新的一天又來了。
也許上帝不是要我急著回到從前忙碌的生活，而是要我帶著這一個月所領受的愛與感恩，重新站起來，慢慢地走，繼續畫，繼續寫，也繼續把祂給我的那一點光，分享給別人。
黑夜會過去。
而曙光，已經來了。
<2026-09-23>
Dawn
On August 21, an unexpected fall suddenly slowed down my life.
Things I had always taken for granted—walking, brushing my teeth, going out, teaching—were no longer so easy. It was as though life had pressed a “slow” button, and I had no choice but to stop and rest.
Then, only a few days later, I learned of Dolly Parton’s passing.
During the month that followed, because my own activities were limited, I found myself spending much more time sitting quietly, reading the news about Dolly, listening to stories about her life, and reflecting on the long journey she had traveled.
She was a little girl who grew up with very little, yet she did not allow hardship to determine the course of her life. She turned difficulties into creativity and transformed the gifts she had received into blessings for others. When I thought about the legacy of her life, I realized that what touches people most is not only a person’s talent or accomplishments, but also the love, hope, and kindness that person leaves behind.
And suddenly I found myself asking:
“God, during this past month, have You been trying to tell me something?”
Perhaps my fall caused me to stop for a reason.
When I could no longer be as busy and independent as usual, I had time to be still—to observe, to think, and also to learn how to receive the care of others.
My husband ran errands and took care of so many things for me. Neighbors and dear friends brought food, encouragement, and love. Through them, I began to understand something very simple and beautiful: when we are weak, we sometimes give others an opportunity to express their love.
We often think the value of life is measured by how much we can still accomplish. But during this month, I began to see it differently.
Perhaps what finally remains is not how many things we have accomplished, but how much love we have left behind.
Now, when I look again at my painting Dawn, I see something I did not see before.
Dawn does not mean there was no darkness.
It is precisely because we have passed through the darkness that the first light of morning becomes so precious.
My fall made me stop.
Dolly’s passing made me think about life.
And the dawn before me seems to whisper:
Life is still here.
The days God has given me are still here.
As long as there is a ray of light in the morning, I know that another new day has come.
Perhaps God is not asking me to hurry back to the busy life I had before. Perhaps He is asking me to rise again with the love and gratitude I have received during this month—to walk a little more slowly, to continue painting, to continue writing, and to continue sharing whatever light He has given me with others.
The darkness will pass.
And the dawn has already begun.
<2026-09-23>