Winners of A.C.T.S Essay Writing Competition 12th theme:Saving For Something I really Want.

1st: Amelia Tan Li Ting, 13, East Spring Secondary School

 Saving for a Miracle

“OCBC is having a workshop about saving for the future, would you like to go?” asked my 48 year old mother. I was 18 years old and studying finances. My mother was holding a pamphlet in her hand that was promoting saving techniques. The words on the pamphlet reminded me of an emotional incident 12 years ago.

                “Jenny! I would like to see you.” My teacher requested. I quietly went up to my teachers table. I was six years old and concerned only with making my parents proud of my grades. I remember my teacher, Miss Lam, look me in the eye and say quietly “I….I don’t know how to tell you this, and I know that… that you’re still very young, but, your mother has suffered a… a car accident, and she is in a coma now, and your father is coming to pick you up soon so you can see her.” It was the first time I had ever heard Miss Lam stutter. I couldn’t blame her. After all, who would find it easy to tell a six year old that their mother was in critical condition. I remember being sent to the general office, where my father was waiting with tears in his eyes.

                My father drove us to the hospital, and we rushed to the ICU. The doctor kept telling us that we couldn’t see my mother yet. When my father asked what was wrong, the doctor told him my mother had a mutated strain of an infection which no drugs had been able to cure.  For the first time I saw my father collapsing into a chair, yelling “I NEED A MIRACLE! PLEASE” For me at the age of 6, I thought a miracle was a physical thing. So I decided in my heart that I was going to do all I could to save up to buy my mother a ‘miracle’. I waited at the hospital with my father, thinking and thinking of the ways I could save. After a few hours, my father drove us home, saying that I needed to prepare for school the next day.

                At school, during recess and lunch, I wouldn’t buy food from the canteen, but I would eat the plain sandwiches my father packed every morning for me. This was hardly filling enough, and I would feel light-headed during my lessons, but I convinced myself to save money for a ‘miracle’ that I was convinced I would be able to buy. It would hurt to see my classmates slurping up noodles or stuffing rice into their mouths hungrily, but my resolve was for a ‘miracle’ I stopped buying fanciful pencils and dug my older pencils out of my cupboard. I would not treat my friends to meals anymore. I carried this regime on for a week, and by then I had saved five dollars. It was a huge sum to a six year old child. It was by sheer willpower that I didn’t take the whole sum and splurge it on candy to make up for those days that I didn’t buy sweets.

When my father and I went to visit my mother that Friday, I ran off to find someone to buy a ‘miracle’ from. I remember seeing a professional looking man in a white coat, and I thought he was a doctor working in the hospital. I went up to him and asked “Mister, my mother is very sick, and my father says she needs a miracle. Do you sell miracles here? I have five dollars, and I could pay you more once I’ve saved up” I remember him looking down at me with the kindest eyes I had ever seen, before saying “Well, I can’t promise that the type of ‘miracle’ I’m selling will work on your mother, but I’m willing to give it a go… take me to her” I quickly nodded and rushed with him to the ICU upon sighting my father, the man shook hands with him and exchanged a few quick words that made my father’s eyes widen. My father quickly nodded and called the nurses.

When the nurses saw the man, they appeared surprised. I learnt later that he was a renowned American doctor specializing in the development of new drugs to combat specific strains of viruses. It was a coincidence that he needed a patient to test out the drug he had recently developed. The nurses called in my mother’s doctor, and he agreed to administer the drug to my mother. After my father had signed the consent forms, he proceeded to inject the drug into my mother’s arm. The effects were immediate. Her temperature had reduced dramatically. She was able to move her fingers. A few hours later, she opened her eyes. The nurses said that it was the shortest time that a person had recovered from a coma they had ever seen. At the time, I was just happy my mother was alright.

“Hey! Are you okay? You’ve been staring into space for the last 5 minutes! ” asked my mother caringly. I looked into her eyes and with tears welling in my eyes, I said “I love you mom” and hugged her. She stared dazedly before hesitantly replying “I love you too”.

2nd: Lynette Teo Xuan Hui, 12, Raffles Primary School

The Bicycle

I really wanted it. I was willing to give my everything for it, the bicycle that stood proudly at the front of the store, and its bells shining, metal body gleaming, with its eye-catching graphics emblazoned on it.

Alas, it was only wishful thinking on my part. Alas, I was only a poor and disheveled street urchin that drew lingering, disdainful looks from passers-by. All I could do was to pedal past and eye it on my rusty, rickety bicycle.

A meager income of five hundred dollars a month that my widowed ma could provide by juggling three jobs was hardly enough for our family of five to live from hand to mouth, much less to think of spending it on a bicycle. I never brought it up to ma, because I would already envisage her shrieking in a mixture of dialect and broken English, “What? A bicycle? Do you know that I only earn five hundred dollars per month and I still have to pay for the school fees of you and your siblings?” I cringed at the thought.

I detested how those affluent people could spend extravagantly on their whims and fancies, while others like me were born into poverty, a cycle that I believed would never be broken. I loathed my ma and my siblings, who would vent their anger at me and nag at me non-stop. Didn’t they know that I had my troubles too? Being the youngest didn’t mean that I was carefree. On the contrary, I was deeply troubled on the inside, having to deal with mockery every day. Didn’t they know that others laughed at me when I walked by, whispered and jeered? They didn’t. They never did. They had never taken the time to probe deeper into me. The real me. They had just assumed that I was happy because I hid my troubles at home and forced a smile at them. I hated everything about my life. I was resigned to the fate that I was poor, I was the butt of ridicule and I could do nothing about it. I thought I was the most unlucky being ever.

All that changed one day.

I spotted an incongruous figure among the sea of faces in school that day. Quizzical, I approached him and squinted for a better look. It was then that I realized who it was. A new student. A dwarf. He was being bullied by everyone; they literally looked down upon him condescendingly. But he was smiling albeit all this. Not forcibly, not because they made him. But because he was proud of who he really was. He didn’t really bother what others thought of him because in him was already ingrained a strong sense of self-identity. The fact that he was born with a disability did not deter him from loving life, even when others mocked at him.

 It was like a lesson to me. I reflected. I knew that I wasn’t the most unlucky being anymore. In fact, I never had been. There were thousands more who were quickly perishing from starvation; at least I had cup noodles to fill my stomach. People living in third world countries had little clothes to wear; at least I had hand-me-downs. I should have been contented with life, with what I had and not give up on it. I should have had a goal in life, something I could work towards, a motivation.

The bicycle.

There and then, my life was transformed.

I began to view life differently, to be an optimist, to look on the bright side of things. I thought of the bicycle and I knew what I had to do. I had to save up for it. So what if ma didn’t make enough to buy me a bicycle? I could make the money myself! When life didn’t give me what I needed ideally, I had to make plans to get it, not give up on my dream!

The bicycle became my life, my everything. When I didn’t feel like waking up earlier to deliver newspapers, I thought of it and woke up with a jolt. When I didn’t feel like going to wash plates after school, I thought of it and sped to the eatery. It became my motivation.

I got my first paycheck a month later. It gleamed under the sunlight and I smiled contentedly to myself. The process might have been bitter but victory was definitely sweet. I cashed in the five hundred dollars and felt the crisp note between my fingers and pedaled toward the toy shop with my old bicycle.

That was the last time I used it.

3rd: Rachel Tan, 11

 

My Teddy

“Mummy, please!  Please!  I need to win my tickets!  I just need another 10…” 

“No.  Today is Grandpa’s birthday, we can’t be late”

I hate this!!! 

Those 2 bright and sparkling eyes, staring at me innocently, literally, I can hear it crying out to me, “bring me home, and bring me home.  I am yours, Sharon.”

Mum was dragging me by my hands, pulling me away from Teddy.  I felt as though my heart was tearing apart.  I wanted so badly to bring home Teddy.

Few months back, Mum took me out for her usual shopping trip and I chanced upon Teddy, a 120 inches white teddy at the Arcade.  This was the first time in my life where I saw such a huge teddy.  She was so adorable, adorned with string of pearl necklace, dressed in white with pink laces, carrying a big heart in front of her chest.  It was love at first sight and I wanted Mum to buy it for me.  She went to the counter and enquired but the lady rejected our request. 

“Sorry Madam, the teddy is not for sale.”

My heart sank! 

“It is not our policy to sell our prizes.”

 “How could I redeem it?” I was desperate.

“Oh,” the lady turned and looked down from the counter to focus on my 1.2m frame.

 “Hi young lady, you could play any games at our arcade to win the tickets.  Just have to accumulate 400 tickets to redeem this teddy.”

Immediately, my eyes lit up with a sight of hope. 

I understood, the currency here is not money, it’s tickets!

My mind was set!  Tugging my mum’s hands and looking pitifully.  She nodded her head reluctantly. 

We went to change the tokens and started with the games.

Looking around, I started with “Whac-A-Mole”.  I was quite slow and clumsy, kept missing the monster.  Few rounds of games, only managed to redeem 10 tickets. 

“That’s so pathetic.”

“Oh mine, when could I redeem my Teddy?”

Mum promised to bring me to Arcade every week if I behave myself. 

Everyday, I would put up my best performance.  Complete my school work and even volunteered to help out with the laundry and dishes.  Mum awarded me with extra tokens each weeks based on my performance.  Scoring As for my papers would immediately give me extra 10 tokens for the week.  Full marks for spellings and class test soon became a norm.

The highlight of the week was to go to the arcade to redeem more tickets.  On my free time, I would imagine myself to be playing the machines and try to master my techniques to win more tickets.

After 3 months of hard work, I finally accumulated 390 tickets.  It was a tough fight.  Definitely not an easy task to meddle with.  To make things worst, Teddy is a collector’s item and there is only 1 Teddy in this world.

I was getting worried as weeks went by.  Frustrated!  Desperate to bring home Teddy.  I started to get paranoid and was worried that someone would redeem Teddy before me.

On my final weekend, I just could not sleep well.  I was so worried.  Everyday I would look at the clock, hoping that time would past faster but it seems like crawling slower than usual.

Finally was Saturday and I was the first to wake up.  I tidy the house and made breakfast for Mum, hoping to leave the house earlier.  At 11am, we went to the Arcade.  I walked faster than usual, grasping and could hear my breathing. 

I speed to the counter….

And my heart missed a beat.

Teddy was gone!

Devastated.  Just could not believe my fear really came true.

Teddy was gone!  I would hear my heart sinking to the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.  I was just another week to bring her home.  The disappointment was beyond words.

My disappointment soon turned into anger. 

Why didn’t Mum allow me to stay for another game, last week?  I could have redeemed Teddy.

Why must it be Grandpa’s birthday?

Why?

Why?

Why?

ARGH?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I hate this!

I kept quiet throughout the whole journey.  I was sulking and did not want to say a single word or talk to anyone.  I was dying inside.  Months of hard work went down the drain.  All the good works were for nothing.  I felt like a fool.

We got home. I went straight into the room.  I didn’t want to be reminded of this episode.

I opened my door and I saw a big giant box on my bed.

I wanted to give it a miss…

“Aren’t you going to open it?”

It’s Grandpa!  I turned around and saw his face and immediately my face lit up!

“OH MINE!!!!” I held my breathe.

I ran to the box and opened it.

There and behold…

It was Teddy!