i was born in a large family. as they worked very hard to make a living,

　　my parents didn't have much time to take care of us children, least of all me who is their fifth child. in my childhood i always tried to draw my parents' attention to me in as many ways as i could think of. finally i found that to pretend illness was perhaps the most useful trick. one day i really caught a cold, but i took it lightly and was even happy about it because i thought my parents would therefore pay more attention to me. two weeks later my cough grew from bad to worse and my mother, suspecting it was pneumonia, took me to a hospital run by some missionaries.

　　the priests there were very kind to me, giving me loaves of bread, milk, toys and books. as a young child i really wished i could stay in the hospital for good. there had been such a wonderful time.