Exactly 4 months since my last post...

I remembered on the first day of 2014 I wrote to 2 prisoners in US prisons. One replied but I haven't heard from him since. I hope he's fine. I haven't gotten a reply to my letters, which meant they either were censored or got lost.

This got me thinking again about how different people's lives in the world can be.

It is a source of inspiration, looking at the cheerful way that tan youngish man at the busy coffeeshop made the teh and kopi, and the cheerful banter between the 2 Chinese ladies at the counter. Their work is obviously tiring and doesn't pay well, but they were in the moment. And in the moment was this simplicity that had strange echos of hope and joy.

I learn about the Christians in Japan, wondering what it must be like to be the 1%. They encourage me when I think of them, holding faith in that land. "Resist him (the devil), standing firm in the faith, because you know that your brothers throughout the world are undergoing the same kind of sufferings." (1 Peter 4:9) Being the only Christian in my family often makes me feel so hopeless,doubtful, cynical at God. I am still waiting, Lord.

I realise I really like to look at people doing menial labour. They make me feel both ashamed of myself and have this warm pang inside. Here's to all the construction workers, the hawkers, the cleaners, and also my dear parents.

Today my mum was recounting an unpleasant work experience. Her job in the service industry isn't easy. Yet she cooks dinner within an hour for the family everyday (really Superwoman I tell her). On top of washing dishes/washing clothes (my dad alternates with her on this). My parents have gone through quite a lot in life. Dad supporting his elder brother and mother, walking with chronic myeloid leukemia. Mum sustaining the family throughout this period. We never had to worry about much.

Though it might not seem much to many, we had holidays every year. My parents would eat bread from a Gardenia loaf for breakfast and they used to scold me for spreading so much. Look, I spread margarine first, I remember Dad saying, then can spread less kaya. (But my mum now uses the spreads very liberally, I guess to overcome the inertia of eating the same thing for breakfast over so many years) 

Not exactly the coolest of parents but still dearly loved. I hope I can love them every day. 

Oh. How apt that today is Labour Day and I am reminded of both the spiritual and mental labour of many.

Off to check out what my mum's a-cooking.