Photos...

A few days ago I was looking at my old photos from past years. As usual, some things had changed while some still remained the same. Looking at them really did bring back some memories and funny how things always seemed to be better during recall than it was when it occured. Honestly, I can't remember everything that had happened in the past but perhaps that's what these photos are for. So that I won't forget. It is said that a picture paints a thousand words yet a picture by itself says nothing until you have a part in it. It is the stories and experiences that are truly valuable.

My father simply loves to take photos, especially when we went overseas. I used to find it annoying and it is not until these past few years that I truly appreciate all these photos that were taken then. Now, my only regret is that I had not taken more. Looking back, it seemed that I had so few, particularly with my friends. I was just telling Ting a few days back that we had taken so few photos with our project mates and before long, we'll be leaving NUS. We might not realise it now, but perhaps 10 years later, it is these photos that will remind where memories fail us. I wished I had photos of my first year in BizAd; of my first presentation; of all my project groupmates. Funny how we could meet week after week and yet it had not occur to us to take any photos for remembrance. Did it just slipped our mind or are certain things just not worth remembering? Just like it was with the SFHC program com. We'd met every week for 2 months and yet there wasn't a single group photo together. Maybe we had been too busy with all the planning then. Maybe that's the irony of it all. All the effort and yet there seemed to be nothing to remember it by, except the memories. Ok, to be fair, guess it was partly my fault as well. Why did I forget to bring my camera on the day itself? Didn't even managed to take any with the secondary students who helped us on that day. I think the participants took more photos than us. But then again, we were all so busy on that day; where was the time for inconsequential things like taking pictures. Well, we did have one group photo in the end except that I do not know whose camera that was and I'm not even sure what happened to that eventually. Perhaps it was already deleted. Haha..oh well. Wonder why we even bother taking it in the first place. Maybe it doesn't really matter after all. A few years from now, this will only be a memory etched in our minds.

I sms her yesterday to inform her that I could not agree to what she's asking. And she did not reply me. Maybe I shouldn't be too surprised after all. I understand that she might be in a difficult position and it is not an easy task to find the people but...

I don't know. I mean, are we friends only when I agree to everything that you asked of me? Shouldn't true friends be the ones who can take 'no' for an answer? Then again, we weren't really friends are we? It seemed that it was just circumstances that brought us together. Friends are supposed to care for each other. Yet at times, it seemed that when I share, no one really seemed to care and I'm just sharing for the sake of sharing. So please do not blame me for putting up a defence everytime I'm around them. I've been hurt so many times I don't even know if I can really trust them anymore. We've known each other for over 10 years yet I don't think I can say I know them more than perhaps 5 years ago. It's kind of sad when I look back and realise that all my time invested there had perhaps come to nothing in the end. What makes it even more sad is the fact that we'll be spending eternity together. I know I'm rather idealistic at times but how wonderful it would be if we could truly share and care for each other, instead of such superficial relationships. Looks like time isn't an accurate indicator of the depth of our relationship after all.

Wannabe

Remembered that I wrote some time ago about being a 'wannabe' and that it is not only about trying to be someone else; it is also being someone u're not. Do we all try to do this at some time or another? Trying to be someone we're not? I know I did.

What happened yesterday made me realised some things. That there are different types of people in this world after all. Have I been too naive in the past? Right from the start, it already seemed that they would win. Yet I still hoped that perhaps the underdogs would come out victorious in the end. Didn't that always happen in movies? But life isn't some Hollywood movie. And reality does hurt. Wonder why the company would have to do that kind of thing. To give people hope when they already knew who they would choose eventually.

Let's just call the winning group Grp A. The people in this group were really outspoken and i guessed they could present very well too. Though I've not heard them presenting before, it was the image they protrayed that basically says it all. And Grp B, the underdogs. They were really friendly, approachable and nice. So what if they can't present as well as Grp B? But I supposed that's what marketing is all about. Not just substance but also presentation.

Just face it, not everyone is able to be as smart or to be able to present as well. But is that cause for despondence? Are these the things that make up our identities? What is it that really matters? When we finally reached the top after striving so hard, would we come to realise that there isn't anything there after all?

Slowly, I'm beginning to realise that I should not try to be someone I'm not but just accept myself for who I am inside. Maybe it's only then would I be able to be the person that God had created me to be. I'm know that we are all made for a reason and we are all special to Him. Instead of trying to do things my way all the time, why am I not letting Him take control?

Sometimes I'd rather she not bother about me at all. 'Cos it seemed like everytime she did, it's because she needed something. Well, most of the time anyway. Is this all there is to our relationship? One that is based on exchange of favours and nothing more? At the end of it all, I wonder if we can be considered as friends, or merely acquaintances. Come to think of it, it's kind of sad isn't it? Where's the community? Where's the fellowship? Where's the love? Or am I isolating myself here? But I did try, so many times before. And it seemed to be the same every time. I guessed I've gotten pass the disillusionment part. The greater the hopes, the greater the disappointment right? I don't really expect anything much from them so please don't expect much from me either.

It's really strange that you can know a person for a short period of time and feel like you've known each other for so long, but you can know someone for half your life and still act like strangers in front of each other.

Got this story from a friend's email

This story was written by a doctor who worked in South Africa...One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labour ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator). We also had no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts

One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fireand fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst (rubber perishes easily in tropical climates). "And it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. "All right," I said, "put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free fromdrafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm."

The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.

During prayer time, one ten-year old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. "Please, God" she prayed, "send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon." While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of a corollary, "And while You are about it, would You please send a dollyfor the little girl so she'll know You really love her?" As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say,"Amen". I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything, the Bible says so. But thereare limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway,if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator!

Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the verandah, was a large twenty-two pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - that would make a batch of buns for the weekend.

Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the.....could it reallybe? I grasped it and pulled it out - yes, a brand-new, rubber hot water bottle. I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, "If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly too!" Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted! Looking up at me, she asked: "Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?" That parcel had been on the way for five whole months. Packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child - five months before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it "that afternoon."

"Before they call, I will answer" (Isaiah 65:24)

Actually, I wasn't feeling too good after getting back the results for the group project. Perhaps felt that we should have scored higher given the efforts that we've put in. But I guess maybe we weren't just ain't good enough. Then I realised what I've done. Once again, I had equated success with achievements. Yet is that really the case? Is one considered to be successful only when he have accomplished a lot in life? By who's standard are we measuring success? Why do I keep forgetting there are is more to life than simply grades? That my life here on earth is but a sojourn. No, this is not my home so what is the point in storing up worldly possessions? Isn't it better to store up treasures in heaven? Of course I know that yet at times I am still tempted by what this world has to offer. So tempted to pursue these desires; only to realise later the futility of it all. Some people do seemed to have it all but no matter how inadequate I may be, Jesus still loves me and he had died for all of us.

All the best....

That has got to be the worst project group that I've ever been in. Ok, maybe I've been rather fortunate after all as at least they had done something. Not much, but at least something. Well, I did have such group members before but at least at that time, it was only one or two who were like that and the rest were alright. Somehow, having not enough time is hardly an excuse. Isn't it about time management? The parts were allocated a long time ago. It's like they didn't care about the project. Thankfully, it's almost complete. And no, I won't get angry. What's the point anyway? It'll only be a waste of energy. Do you have any idea how much energy is used in showing our anger? Well, all I can say is that I really wished them all the best in what they do in future, if they continue to behave the same way. Appearances can only be kept up for so long. After that, your true personality will show. Maybe that's what most people are like. I just have to get used to it.

Then again, I guessed I've been rather blessed this semester as most of my other project groups have been great. Interviewing the aeromodellers, discussing and talking crap with the CB group. Going to MacRitchie Reservoir with the GE2218 group. Time spent rather to figure out what the tutor wanted for the OE group. Yes, these three groups were wonderful. I really should not let just one group get me down. Once again, getting the right group members is important. And I supposed it would hardly be a surprise that I won't work with the people from that group again.