Roller Coaster

Children Learn What They Live
If a child lives with criticism, he learns to condemn.
If a child lives with hostility, he learns to fight.
If a child lives with ridicule, he learns to be shy.
If a child lives with jealousy, he learns to feel guilty.
If a child lives with impropriety, he learns to feel shame.
If a child lives with tolerance, he learns to be patient.
If a child lives with encouragement he learns confidence.
If a child lives with praise, he learns to appreciate.
If a child lives with fairness, he learns justice.
If a child lives with security, he learns to have faith.
If a child lives with approval, he learns to like himself.
If a child lives with acceptance and friendship, he learns to find love in the world.
With what is your child living?
~Dorothy Law Neite

If a child lives with adversity, he learns to appreciate.

My kids are in no way deprived of anything. In fact, they have great aunts and uncles and grandparents who never fail to shower them with delightful stuffs whenever they go on trips or bring them to outings.

Due to my husband’s erratic job nature, our household income is never immutable. There will be times when we will be able to lavish on the kids. There will also be times when creditors call upon us more often than my own mother. Colourful bills fill the letterbox. Legal letters are stuffed through the gap under the door. It’s a pity Kristel doesn’t have a habit of shredding papers to bits.

My kids have learnt to scan the telephone numbers on the caller ID before deciding to pick it up or leave it ringing. They learnt to keep quiet and tip-toe to the door and peer into the door-hole when someone knocks on the door. They learnt NEVER to open the door to strangers (not even uttering a sound). They learnt not to hold back Kristel when she barks at strangers at the door. They learnt that when it’s an outing with their Mum, they can’t ask for much.

Once, after a boisterous time at the playground, I treated them to an unusual lunch at Burger King. I ordered two burgers, one of them cut into halves, and a medium drink, to be shared among the four of us. Of course, there were complaints. They were still kids after all. Though my heart pained for them, there wasn’t much I could offer.

I carefully unwrapped each half-burger for Mervin and Angel, cautioning them to hold it tightly and savour whatever they had. Rachel got to eat a full burger as she was growing and had a bigger appetite. They fought over the drink as usual, complaining about one taking more or longer sips than the others. While I watched on, I kept reminding them to hold on to their precious half-piece carefully, above all their commotion.

When it happened, everything seems to be in slow motion. Yet it happened so fast that no one could stop it from happening.

Angel was busy wrestling with the burger in her hand and reaching for the drink at the same time. Right before my ogling eyes, the meat patty from her half-piece of burger slipped from the two half-pieces of bun and fell onto the ground with a loud “PLOP”.

That has got to be the loudest “PLOP” I had ever heard. I believed that my kids had also heard the loud “PLOP” of my heart, as the commotion suddenly died down. All three pairs of eyes were onto me. Mine was onto the patty on the floor which was barely bitten into. Tell me about heartaches, heart-wrenching, heart-breaking… I could almost feel hot tears on the brinks of my eyes.

Through gritted teeth and controlled temper, I gave them a final warning, rearranged the now empty half-burger for Angel, nearly crushed the buns under my tightly clenched fists, and tried not to look at the patty lying on the ground. No matter how hard I tried, the scene kept replaying once and again in my head and each time, there was the unmistakable “PLOP” and “PLOP”. One from the patty and the other from my heart.

The kids finished the rest of the meal without a word.

Today, I had the opportunity to buy the kids some things I had long promised but failed to fulfill. The shopping was done without much fuss. The kids had learnt to appreciate whatever their mother can afford. Seeing their faces brighten up when they received the things they had longed for is the best remedy for any blues I have.

After the shopping, we stopped by seven-eleven to get a giant Slurpee; dropped by NTUC to get a big packet of popcorn; got ourselves a seat outside the cinemas at the entertainment centre; and my darling kids proceeded to share and enjoy the popcorns and Slurpee like it’s the best deal in the world. Once in a while, they’d turn to me with the widest glee and exclaimed how delicious the popcorns were and offered me a sip of Slurpee and a fistful of popcorns.

Looking at how they try to make the most with everything and their contentment with the simplest thing warms my heart.

I cannot give my kids the best. But they never fail to be the best for me.