PSLE: Stealing from a busker

“Brother, what should we get for Papa’s birthday?  We only have five dollars.  It’s not enough even to get a cake?”  my sister, Amber, spoke and gave a long sigh. 

“Papa needs a wallet.  His wallet is torn and tattered and he doesn’t bear to throw it away,”  I exclaimed.

“But we do not have enough money for the cake and the wallet?  What should we do?”  I asked in frustration.

As we trudged along the busy underpass of Boon Kong MRT, a voice caught our attention.  “And I… will… always… love… you…” It was the signature song of Whitney Houston and a blind busker was crooning with an electric guitar in his hands.  On the ground was a mat with coins and dollar notes.  A quick estimation of that money would amount to at least fifty dollars.  That would be enough to buy a nice cake and a wallet!

Suddenly, a brainwave hit me like a sudden bolt of lightning.  How about stealing his money?  He wouldn’t know, would he?  The busker was blind.  Darting my eyes from side to side, I pretended that I was going to give some money away but I was seizing the chance to take his actually. 

Upon seeing this, Amber’s face blanched in trepidation.  Immediately, she rushed towards me and tugged my sleeves, whispering, “Alan, what on earth are you doing?  Don’t do it!”

I cupped my hand against her ear and replied, “Don’t be a worrywart!  We need the money for Dad’s cake and present!  No one will know!”

At this time, the blind busker seemed to be still in ignorant bliss, oblivious to what was happening.

Out of the blue, a loud voice boomed, “Hey, kid!  What are you doing?”

I swivelled around.  To my horror, it was a uniformed policeman.  His piercing glare was so intense that I almost melted in fear.  My legs wobbled like almond jelly and my mouth was wide agape.

The police officer grabbed my hand full of dollar notes and yelled, “What are you doing, boy?”

“I…I… was donating some money,” I replied, trying to cover up my crime.

“Really?” he hissed.

He grabbed my collar and barked, “Follow me to the police station now!”

“Please don’t arrest my brother.  We only wanted to get a birthday present for Papa,” my sister pleaded in-between sobs for mercy.

“Don’t waste your breath!  You must be an accomplice!  I saw him whispering to you.  You must also follow me to the station!” the burly policeman insisted.

Our hearts dropped.  My sister was innocent!  I was the culprit!  Together, we knelt down and beseeched him.  The officer’s heart was made of stone!  He would not give in.

Just then, the busker spoke, “Officer, can you please give the two kids a second chance?”

This voice was like music to my ears.  His face shone with incredible kindness.  “Officer, please let them go.  I insist!”

The police officer finally relented and let them go, saying, “Don’t let me catch you again or you will be sorry.”

We rose to our feet, apologised to the busker and walked away with heavy footsteps.  Suddenly, the busker called out, “Kids, wait.  Take this money and buy a present for your dad.”

We refused to take the money.  We used our five dollars to buy a very simple wallet for Papa.   There was no birthday cake but a heartfelt birthday song.  That day, we learnt an important lesson about greed and kindness. I purposed in my heart not to be overwhelmed by greed again.