PSLE: Kindness

It had been a long day at school.  Finally, the train whizzed to a stop at the Woodlands MRT station.  Home at last! The doors opened and a cool breeze rustled my fringe.   I dragged my tired legs and exited the ticket gantry.  The station was bursting at its seams.  I had to weave my way through the maze of a busy crowd which was getting on my nerves.  When was I going to reach home at this sloth-like pace? 

Just as I was trying to brush off this thought, I was aghast to see an old frail lady shambling towards me.  Her figure was hunchbacked and shriveled.  I recognized her!  The tissue seller!  Not again!  This old grandmother would never fail to plead with the passing passengers to buy her packets of tissue. It was a monumental struggle to get even one to buy them but I did not give a damn.  She was such an eyesore!   I had always managed to sidestep her but this time, the streaming crowd brought me right in front of her. Oops!

“Would you like some tissue packets?” the septuagenarian asked.  A crown of thin bone-white hair framed her wrinkled sour-plum face and purple veins were visibly extended across it like the map of a thousand railway tracks. 

“No!  No!” I replied with my nose in the air.  She repeated her pleas which obviously escalated my annoyance with her.  "Get out of my way, you beggar!" I snapped and quick as a flash, hastened my footsteps to brush her off.  The senior cast her dim eyes down in sadness and turned to others instead. 

The crowd started to thin and I scampered off. Unfortunately, I fell victim to the slippery ground and fell with a loud thud.  The impact was so great that excruciating pain shot through my body and uncontrollable tears slipped down my ashen face.  My grazed knees started to bleed.  Groaning in pain, I tried to stand to my feet but could not.  Lying there as vulnerable as an infant, I was in dismay to see that no one stopped even to lend a helping hand or offer a word of comfort. How horrible!  A cold-blooded world, wasn’t it?

Just as I was about to call my parents for help, a compassionate and soothing voice called out, “Are you okay?”  Then, I felt a pair of feeble arms encasing me as if trying to help me to stand.   Curious, I turned to see who the good Samaritan was.  I could not believe my eyes!  It was the old tissue seller!  

Slowly but surely, I managed to stand with her help.  Then, she used a new packet of tissue and dabbed my bloodied wounds on my knees tenderly with her trembling hands.  She kept blowing them gently which reminded me of my late grandmother.

“You’ll be fine,” she comforted with a grin that flashed her toothless gums.  A twinge of guilt jabbed me on the inside.  I was really terrible at how I had treated her.  My face was flushing hot with shame.  Such awesome kindness!  Realization dawned on me that she was kind but I was not.  I was part of this cold-blooded world, wasn’t I?

“Thank you so much!” I gushed in a gratified tone, my face saturated with grateful tears, my head hung in remorse.

“May I buy some tissue from you?” I continued.

“No, no! This tissue packet is on the house!” she insisted.

She stuffed the tissue packet into my hands and we soon parted ways.  The old lady continued peddling her tissue packets.  That evening, I hobbled home, a transformed soul.  I tasted the milk of kindness and this lesson would be engraved in my memory forever.