Passion

One foot after another. Everyday. One foot after another. It feels like counting down the seconds from the beginning of class until the class period ends. It ain't that long but because you are constantly counting and aware of time, it feels like forever. Just walking aimlessly, focusing only on putting one feet in front of another, makes life miserable. Not unless you have a goal. But a lot of times, I doubt that I am getting anywhere near it. It feels so far away. But God is good, He gives me constant reminders of my passion for my goal. 

My goal, my centre, my passion was planted in me when I was 16. I still remember that first day, I was just a lost teenager standing in the doorway of a church childcare centre. It wasn't even my church! Everything felt so foreign to me, especially with my "awesome" sense of directions. The first day is always "blur-blur" day, I was just doing what I was told to do. By the end of that first day, my head was filled with names of the kids I desperately tried to remember, my ears ringing with the high pitch voices of the children, legs tired from squatting down and getting to their level when talking to them, to see it from their angle. I was exhausted, completely. But I felt a sudden excitement to go back again tomorrow. And I did, for 2 weeks. It was the happiest time of my life. Playing with children, teaching them, trying to get them to behave even when some of the kids' characters are so strong you feel like shaking them upside down and throwing them out of the window. Especially this little boy named Matthew Lim, he was only 2 but he was the most stubborn one among them. But guess what? Despite these, I still loved them. I loved their innocences, their blunt honesty, their uncomplicated mind even though they have complicated lives.

All of it sounds amazing, but that fire that has been burning for 3 years, was running out of fuel. Assignments, deadlines, presentations, finals, repeat. I was tired of life, and wondered what does all these have to do with what I want to do. The moment I started doubting my passion because it seemed like such a complicated pathway to go. I am more towards science and mathematics, I should have just done something to do with it. But I just had to love children so much that I have to choose a humanities course, which is a torture to me. 

Yet, I was reminded to persevere. There is a Children's Camp organized in my university every year by Leo Club. And I thought, I am soooo going! The complicated human beings around me has made me so tired. And I missed kids, a lot! This camp's experience is totally different compared to working. Well, because 1. these kids are orphans, and 2. I take care of a kid, one-to-one; instead of taking care of about 10 kids or whoever is in my sight. I never ever in my life that I felt so attached to one kid, of course besides my little cousins. Even though she didn't understand my language, neither did I understand her's, I was attached to her. She understood my gesture and so did I understand her's, there was a strange connection that was created every moment I hold hands with her. By the end of the camp, she cried. I held it in, and while blinking back my tears, I kept repeating "don't cry", "I love you" in her language. And then, the bus left and I finally started tearing up. 

After it was all over, I kept feeling a little hand holding onto mine. But there was none. It was only a habitual feeling. But then, it came back again, my fuel to continue, my love for children and their precious little life. I missed kids, a lot! And I knew it. So my every step brings me closer. Thanks for the reminder, my Old Man.

Thank you Children's Camp, thank you Leo Club, thank you little beloved children. CC10! Hop, hop, shhhhh!