Some years ago on a hot summer day in south Florida, a little boy decided to go for a swim behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and the shirt as he went. He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, a crocodile was swimming toward him.
His mother in the house was looking out of the window and saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In fear, she ran toward the water, shouting to her son as loudly as she could.
Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U﹣turn to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the crocodile reached him. From the bank, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms just as the crocodile snatched his legs. That began an unbelievable tug﹣of﹣war between the two: The crocodile was much stronger than the mother, but the mother didn't give up. A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, ran from his truck, took a gun and shot the crocodile.
After weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy was saved. His legs were completely scarred by the attack of the animal and, on his arms, were deep scars where his mother's fingernails dug into his flesh in her effort to hang on to the son she loved.
The newspaper reporter asked the boy if he would show him his scars (疤). The boy lifted his legs. And then, with pride, he said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my mom wouldn't let go. "
Like that little boy, we also have scars, not from a crocodile, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are ugly and have caused us deep regret. But in life if you have the scars of love on your arms, you should be thankful.