IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY ANGEL
Every being created by God is on a spiritual journey. Most of us are not even aware of who we are, where we came from or where we are going.
It is only when we reflect
upon our human memories that we are able to comprehend the fact... that
we had come from God, and He had been with us in every step through our
lives.
Every journey is unique, and none can be duplicated, for all of us are special in our own ways, and thus, we each have to find our individual path to return Home to God.
****************
My journey, too, I believe, began long before this lifetime. I was left abandoned in the hospital of a small town where I was born. My birth parents were very poor and they had too many children to feed at the time. One of the nurses in that hospital took pity on me, so she brought me home to her elderly mother, whom I would call my Grandma.
Grandma did not have much money either and we lived in a wooden house with very basic necessities, but she had a tender heart of gold. She would always give some food or money to anyone who came begging at our door, regardless of where they came from or what was the colour of their skin. Grandma said that we had 'enough' and we must help those who are less fortunate. Through her compassion, she had shown me how to be charitable and to care for others.
She also made certain that I received proper formal education and completed my studies, though I was not exactly a brilliant student. I was more of a day-dreamer then, always in a world of my own, and preferred to spend my time reading, drawing pictures and writing stories. Grandma said, "Whatever you do, make sure to do your best, or don't begin at all." She taught me to be self-disciplined, to work hard, and to achieve perfection in everything that I embark upon.
As a teenager, I used to envy my friends who had parents to send them and pick them up from school in big cars. Our house was very far from the school and my only form of transport was the public bus. Grandma would wake me up very early every morning, prepare breakfast and tie my hair into pigtails, as I quickly gobbled down my breakfast. Then, I had to walk half an hour to the bus terminal, and spend another half an hour in the bus before I could reach school. After school, I had to go through the same process to return home. Grandma would wait until I get home, however late that would be, and eat together with me as I relate to her stories of my day past. On rainy days, if I had forgotten my umbrella, Grandma would walk a whole mile and sit at the bus-stop, sometimes getting wet herself, but she would wait patiently until she sees me get down from the bus.
I had a lot of health problems when I was growing up and Grandma would find all ways to heal me. Sometimes, she would even go into the neighbouring villages to pluck fresh herbs, and then spend hours bending over the slow fire to cook the medicine for me. If I had a fever, her gentle hand would touch my forehead constantly through the night (I would pretend that I was sound asleep even though I was not, so that she would not worry any more than she needed to). If I had any pain in my body, she would rub hot oil for me until the pain went away.
Grandma was a wonderful cook as she had come from a Peranakan family (Baba-Nyonya parentage). Every day, she would prepare delicious meals for her family members... but for herself, she would only eat the left-overs from the previous day. She also made very good cakes and she would serve the well-cut ones to others... but for herself, she would only eat the odd-shaped corners. Her concept was simply waste not, want not. Her sacrifice for others was incomparable.
Grandma was a Buddhist by faith and she would chant mantras twice a day, without fail. She did not study the scriptures though, and was only able to guide me according to our Chinese culture. We live in a multi-racial country, so I was allowed to participate in various faiths and festivals. However, the different religions did not have any impact on me spiritually. From a very young age, I had always felt the presence of a Higher Being in my life but He had no name or form. God was a formless figure whom I could talk to whenever the need arises. I tried to tell Grandma about Him but she would just smile.
As she progressed further into her nineties, Grandma's body began to bend over due to osteoporosis and arthritis. That did not stop her from keeping herself active around the house though. At the age of 91, she slipped and fell down in her bathroom. Her hip broke and she had to undergo a surgery to get it fixed with screws. One month later, she was back on her feet and walking around with a metal walker! A personal maid was hired by her family members to take care of her, but she still did most of her things by herself.
Sadly though, her memory began to fail, and by the age of 93, she could no longer recognize me physically. Whenever I went to visit her, she would smile graciously and said that I was her relative. Yet, she would call my name every day and reminded her maid to prepare food for me when I come home. She had even forgotten how to pray and did not remember her own japamala (prayer beads).
I could feel her beautiful soul slipping away slowly as the years went by. Eventually, she was no longer able to talk or walk anymore. She slept most of the time during the last couple weeks of her life... and one morning, she just left quietly. It was July 2005 when she went Home to the Lord. She had lived to the ripe old age of 96.
**************
Looking back now, I realized that I had been so blessed to be raised by this wonderful being. Through her simple manners, she had engraved all the human values to prepare me for my own journey. She had seven children of her own and many grandchildren, but she had dedicated the remaining of her life for me, alone.
It was not easy for her because many of her family members did not accept me as one of them. She had to endure a tremendous amount of pain over the years we were together because she always defended and protected me from them. She NEVER once gave up on me, not matter how tough it was for her to care for me... Her unconditional love was truly a reflection of God Himself.
To me, Grandma was my Angel, sent from above.
To Grandma, she said simply... that I was her gift from God.
May Swami bless her loving soul....
Note : The picture above is Grandma and me (at one year old)
(Written by : Adeline Teh, 15 September 2011)
Every journey is unique, and none can be duplicated, for all of us are special in our own ways, and thus, we each have to find our individual path to return Home to God.
****************
My journey, too, I believe, began long before this lifetime. I was left abandoned in the hospital of a small town where I was born. My birth parents were very poor and they had too many children to feed at the time. One of the nurses in that hospital took pity on me, so she brought me home to her elderly mother, whom I would call my Grandma.
Grandma did not have much money either and we lived in a wooden house with very basic necessities, but she had a tender heart of gold. She would always give some food or money to anyone who came begging at our door, regardless of where they came from or what was the colour of their skin. Grandma said that we had 'enough' and we must help those who are less fortunate. Through her compassion, she had shown me how to be charitable and to care for others.
She also made certain that I received proper formal education and completed my studies, though I was not exactly a brilliant student. I was more of a day-dreamer then, always in a world of my own, and preferred to spend my time reading, drawing pictures and writing stories. Grandma said, "Whatever you do, make sure to do your best, or don't begin at all." She taught me to be self-disciplined, to work hard, and to achieve perfection in everything that I embark upon.
As a teenager, I used to envy my friends who had parents to send them and pick them up from school in big cars. Our house was very far from the school and my only form of transport was the public bus. Grandma would wake me up very early every morning, prepare breakfast and tie my hair into pigtails, as I quickly gobbled down my breakfast. Then, I had to walk half an hour to the bus terminal, and spend another half an hour in the bus before I could reach school. After school, I had to go through the same process to return home. Grandma would wait until I get home, however late that would be, and eat together with me as I relate to her stories of my day past. On rainy days, if I had forgotten my umbrella, Grandma would walk a whole mile and sit at the bus-stop, sometimes getting wet herself, but she would wait patiently until she sees me get down from the bus.
I had a lot of health problems when I was growing up and Grandma would find all ways to heal me. Sometimes, she would even go into the neighbouring villages to pluck fresh herbs, and then spend hours bending over the slow fire to cook the medicine for me. If I had a fever, her gentle hand would touch my forehead constantly through the night (I would pretend that I was sound asleep even though I was not, so that she would not worry any more than she needed to). If I had any pain in my body, she would rub hot oil for me until the pain went away.
Grandma was a wonderful cook as she had come from a Peranakan family (Baba-Nyonya parentage). Every day, she would prepare delicious meals for her family members... but for herself, she would only eat the left-overs from the previous day. She also made very good cakes and she would serve the well-cut ones to others... but for herself, she would only eat the odd-shaped corners. Her concept was simply waste not, want not. Her sacrifice for others was incomparable.
Grandma was a Buddhist by faith and she would chant mantras twice a day, without fail. She did not study the scriptures though, and was only able to guide me according to our Chinese culture. We live in a multi-racial country, so I was allowed to participate in various faiths and festivals. However, the different religions did not have any impact on me spiritually. From a very young age, I had always felt the presence of a Higher Being in my life but He had no name or form. God was a formless figure whom I could talk to whenever the need arises. I tried to tell Grandma about Him but she would just smile.
As she progressed further into her nineties, Grandma's body began to bend over due to osteoporosis and arthritis. That did not stop her from keeping herself active around the house though. At the age of 91, she slipped and fell down in her bathroom. Her hip broke and she had to undergo a surgery to get it fixed with screws. One month later, she was back on her feet and walking around with a metal walker! A personal maid was hired by her family members to take care of her, but she still did most of her things by herself.
Sadly though, her memory began to fail, and by the age of 93, she could no longer recognize me physically. Whenever I went to visit her, she would smile graciously and said that I was her relative. Yet, she would call my name every day and reminded her maid to prepare food for me when I come home. She had even forgotten how to pray and did not remember her own japamala (prayer beads).
I could feel her beautiful soul slipping away slowly as the years went by. Eventually, she was no longer able to talk or walk anymore. She slept most of the time during the last couple weeks of her life... and one morning, she just left quietly. It was July 2005 when she went Home to the Lord. She had lived to the ripe old age of 96.
**************
Looking back now, I realized that I had been so blessed to be raised by this wonderful being. Through her simple manners, she had engraved all the human values to prepare me for my own journey. She had seven children of her own and many grandchildren, but she had dedicated the remaining of her life for me, alone.
It was not easy for her because many of her family members did not accept me as one of them. She had to endure a tremendous amount of pain over the years we were together because she always defended and protected me from them. She NEVER once gave up on me, not matter how tough it was for her to care for me... Her unconditional love was truly a reflection of God Himself.
To me, Grandma was my Angel, sent from above.
To Grandma, she said simply... that I was her gift from God.
May Swami bless her loving soul....
Note : The picture above is Grandma and me (at one year old)
(Written by : Adeline Teh, 15 September 2011)
