A Christmas Gift

Christmas is a significance of the birth of Jesus Christ. The day when Jesus was born. It celebrated by the christians worldwide. Some who are not christians also would like to celebrate this occasion because it is worth to be rejoiced about. Anyway, here are some sharing that I found on facebook.

Suggestions for Christmas gifts :)

To the enemy : Forgiveness
To your opponent: Tolerence
To your friend: Your heart
To a customer: Service
To all: Charity
To every child: A good example
To yourself: Respect

You can shop this last minute too!

Merry Christmas everyone ! :D

A "sorry" is meant to be forgiven.

I am truly sorry for neglecting this blog for many months. My last post was 3 months ago. Very sorry about that, I will be posting some new stories soon! A whole chunk of stories were waiting for me to be typed in here!

Wait for my good news yah!

Nerd, redefined

Extracted from The Star 25 September 2011

It takes time and effort to see beyond what meets the eys.

Nerd: an intelligent but single-minded person obsessed with a non social hobby or pursuit. I love books. They're my best friends. In fact, once upon a time, the only boyfriends I had were Harry Potter and Edward Cullen, if you know what I mean.

I have to say that I am perfectly content with how my life is but I'd be lying if I said that the little dreamer deep within me didn't yearn for some TLC (Tender, Loving, Care). I'd be lying if I said I never dreamt of Prince Charming sweeping me off my feet. I'd also be lying if I said I liked being alone.

Growing up as an introvert is not the greatest thing. I rarely ventured outside my conmfort zone and preferred the companionship of books to people. But yes, reading does have disadvantages.

I waited for a long time for that person to complete me. For that fabled soulmate to make me feel on the top of the world. It wasn't until I was older that I learnt there is no such thing.

My first day of secondary school was awkward. Stepping onto unfamilliar territory is not my forte. Too bad the back door of the classroom was locked or I would have sneaked in from behind. No such luck.

So I entered from the front with as much bravura as I could muster, which wasn't much considering how I shuffled along the walls and tried not to be noticed.

I touched down safely at the very end of the classroom and tried to look busy, ignoring the stares my new classmates were giving me. A guy at the same table didn't stare but the look in his eyes showed that he understood how horrible being in my shoes was.

I cannot remember the first words we exchanged but I was glad we did because we became close friends in our remaining two years of school. It turned out he was the smartest guy in the class. And I didn't mind it at all because now, we love reading.

Then we went our separate ways and I thought I'd never find a companion like him again. I went about my days keeping to light conversations with acquaintances, and limited them strictly to topics related to college.

I thought that in lifetime there was only one person who could understand you, only one person who knows you better than yourself. I was prepared to be in my own world.

But the forces that govern life decided to take things into their hands and pulled the rug from under my feet. I fell hard but have no regrets whatsoever for getting a sore bum. I met stranger whom I never knew would be my best friend. She astounded me because we are so alike, despite her being my senior. We became joined at the hips, like sisters.

However, just as fleetingly, she completed her two years at college (with perfect CGPA) and is currently studying at the University of Michigan in America. Thus is the reality of life. I feel there are many people who can complement us. They come and go; there is no denying that what you love the most, you cannot keep.

Friendship is like flying a kite. You have to let it soar high up in the air. If you hold the thread too tightly, it will crash to the ground. Although your kite may seem small and distant from afar, you know it's there in the sky because you're connected to it by the thread. And you're comforted because wherever the kite goes, it will return to you.

To date, my secondary school friend is the only one who dares call me a nerd to my face and every once a while, I try to prove him wrong. My college mate has shown me how much more a person can be beyond the books we study and I hope to follow in her footstep as I prepare to transfer to the United States next year.

I appreciate people who make someone smile, who take time to know someone, who accept someone without judging her. They are no Mother Teresa or Oprah Winfrey, but in their own way, they help make the world a better place by bringing hope to those who are alone.

And to those who are discouraged, and feel uneasy and ever so small, I wish to say this: "You are someone. Just believe and you will be.''

This piece goes out to my two most awesome kindred spirits - you know who you are. Thanks for being worthy friends and teaching me that you are more than what people say you are. I know this sounds totally cliched but I am who I am today because of your friendship and gentle guidance.

Nerd: just another noun that fails to take account the person as a whole.

Yesterday Once More

Extracted from Ths Star Thursday 22 September 2011

Recently, I read an entry in my friend Arisha's Facebook, which said : "When I was a kid, I didn't have a laptop, iPod, Blackberry, PS3 or Tablet. I played outside with friends, bruised my knees, made up stories and played hide-and-seek. I ate what my mum or caretaker made. I would think twice before I said "No" to my parents. If I misbehaved, I got caned. Not just me, my friends too. Life wasn't hard, it was good and I survived. Kids these days are spoilt ..."

Her entry inspired this column. I began thinking about my childhood and how wonderful it was. Mum and dad were very busy making ends meet, and lookind after my two older sisters and brother. So the three youngest ones - my brother, sister and I - were brought up by my grandparents in Cheras, KL. Grandpa was very kind but also very quiet. He was hard of hearing and didn't speak to us much. It was Grandma who became our nanny/mum/best pal. She was great. She taught us to enjoy a simple life with wholesome fun.

We hardly ever watched television, except for the occasional Chinese opera. Even then, it was far more exciting to go and watch a live performance at one of those Chinese assembly halls with Grandma. The three of us would play outdoors a lot. There was sandy patch otuside the house where we would play masak masak (pretend cooking), using leaves and tree branches as kitchen utensils.

There was a small lake near the house where we would catch little fish using empty cans and a sieve, and a playground where we'd spend hours before or after dinner. It was so safe that we were allowed to play by ourselves, without adult supervision.

But weekends were the best. Every weekend, my seventh and ninth aunts would bring their children for a sleepover. On Saturday morning, when Grandma left for the market, the fun would begin. We would get dressed up in sarongs and pretend we were famous Chinese singers, performing on the long dining table which became our stage. Other times, we "sold" kacang putith (peanuts) and junk (from Grandma's cupboards) using paper money we made ourselves; or we played teacher and students ... until we heard Grandma's voice from the outside. The we would clear up everything in an instant and life was back to ''normal".

Sundays were outing days. Grandma, uncle and the aunties would often take us to Lake Garden in Kuala Lumpur, where we would jog, roll on the grass, chase each other and have a picnic. We were creative. We used out imagination to have fun, lots of it! We appreciated nature more.

Kids today prefer to stay home, watch TV, play PS3, get onto Google and gossip on their Facebook pages. I know many parents would love to have our kids enjoy what we had before but there are all sorts of obtacles. We're too busy to take them outdoors because of work. And the living environment today is different and not as safe.

So many of us live in high-rise condominiums with little contact with the world outside. Our kids don't have much space to explore and have fun. We don't let them out for fear of them being kidnapped.

But I know some parts of the world where children can still have good old-fashioned fun. While I was studying in Montreal, one of my lecturers (now a very good friend ) had a country home two hours away from the city. Her family would spend every weekend and school holidays there with the children. Although they were already teenagers, they loved being outdoors. They built a tree house, planted trees and herbs, counted the stars at night, made wishes when tehy saw shooting stars, made fires for a barbeque or just to roast marshmallow, and made toys from old socks. They would pick mushrooms during the rainy autumn season and flowers to decorate the cottage. I felt the privileged to be part of their wonderful life.

As far for my own kids, we hardly let them watch TV; use of the Tablet is restricted to once a week, once they have finished their homework. I try to influence them by making things from recycled items. Max has even acquired the habit of keeping junk, saying he will make something out of it one day when he has an idea.

They are also very lucky, as they have wonderful grandparents in Germany who make them things themselves. This summer, when we went back to Germany, the children were welcomed by a new swing in the backyard made by Opa ( grandfather in German ),right next to the tree house made by Opa and Max tow years ago.

Back here in Malaysia, when I met up with my family for dim sum recently, I brought up this issue about kids being into electronic gadgets. I was surprised to hear my dad say: "It's good! Then they will not learn bad things outside." I guess my parents aren't aware that the Internet is not all safe either.

I feel lucky to have been born in era without digital devices. Otherwise I may not have appreciated nature the way I do.

Yes, I do enjoy the convenience brought by the Internet and mobile phones. They make the world feel smaller, we're more in touch with other side of the world. As always, there are pros and cons.

But while we should appreciate the benefits of digital wizardry, I just wish the younger generation could appreciate the beauty of nature more.

Say No To Bullying

Extracted from The Star Wednesday 11 May 2011

Memories of sitting under the staircase, holding on to the pieces of my shattered self-confidence still play in my mind whenever I hear the word "bully". Having grown up being chubby in comparison to my stick-thin cousins, I was subjected to both harsh comments and other rather cryptic ones.

One of the most common ones are, "Oh, you're looking... healthy!". All I could do was reply with a mere "thank you" in a bid to not come across as impolite.

Although adults in my family never directly taunted me about my weight or size, my cousin who weren't as kind all reflect back on other words with remorse now that we're older.

I'm glad to say I've moved on, and the feelings of hatred have dissipated as the years passed. Still, it doesn't give anyone the right to physically, mentally or verbally bully an individual. Bullying takes place in any situation or form, and at any stage of one's life. Although the way we react to it differs from time to time, in the end, it all comes down to same thought : "It hurts."

There are many reasons why bullying is such a common occurrence, especially in schooling environment.

There are school-going adolescents who are attention seekers, jealous peers, and those hat succumb to peer pressure just too easily. As such, some of us fall "prey" to those who appear to be higher up in the "social hierarchy".

In that sense, school is similar to the food chain in the wild. The weaker ones get picked on and trampled over by the ones who seemingly have more power. Bullying in schools appears to be more common these days. We read about it int he local and international media and watch first hand video accounts of it online. Although we express sympathy and disgust, we often overlook the root cause.

When I was studying in Malaysia, I've witnessed quite a few of my peers transfering schools after constantly being verbally bullied.

Being picked on for your taste in music, body image, language fluency and even intelligence level was not uncommon at my old school. Nothing protected my peers in these situation; there were no school rules or policies dealing with bullying. There was only so much could do as friends to stick up for them as once the people who "ruled the school" spoke, everyone else followed suit.

Thankfully, I've never seen my schoolmates take drastic actions in response to all the tormenting. But I have seen the tormentors walk free, leaving the victims to resolve the situation by changing schools. Perhaps this is the cause of the never-ending chain of bullying in Malaysian schools and schools throughout the world. T

The offenders never get put off from doing what they do because there is an appeal to committing such actions and not being disciplined for it. Students are getting bolder, recording videos of these bullying "sessions" and posting it up on social networks. This indicates that the offenders simply have no fear of getting caught.

They openly reveal their faces and school uniforms and are seen to be taking pleasure in inflicting pain on others. There is little, if any, attempt at being discreet. Looking at it from an offender's perspective, one would be more inclined to repeat their actions if they've done it before and gotten away with it.

If a victim does not report a case, or takes some form of action against bullying, the offender is likely to repeat his or her actions. While the subject of bullying is occasionally brought up as an issue in schools, it generally only happens when a major incident occurs. This might put the offenders off for a short period of time, but they are likely to resume their usual routines, eventually.

In Australia, I feel that there is a cerain feeling of safety when I walk into my classroom as compared to when I was studying in Malaysia. Here, an anti-bullying charter is read out in each class room at the beginning of each school year. The charter states that there is an expectation that all members of the school community respect and tolerate individual differences.

Definitions of bullying are outlined in the student diaries we carry around everyday to our classes and a copy of the anti-bullying charter can be found in there too. The effort to eradicate bullying in schooling environment in Australia is taken very seriously and is not something to be taken lightly.

Most schools here have a zero-tolerance policy to bullying and enforce compulsory counselling or even expulsion in extreme situations to discipline students. Without the stress of dealing with bullies, a student's schooling experience can be so much more enjoyable. After all, we already have enough homework and eam stress to last us till oour golden ages.

It is difficult to enforce something as abstract as "anti-bullying", but perhaps more needs to be done within school communities to stress psychological effects that bullying has on young mind.

There is still much more work to be done before we reach a point where students are able to be educated in a protected learning environment.

How a stem cell transplant altered two lives, for the better.

So, here's another story that I am going to share to you guys, the whole world.

Extracted from The Star, Wedenesday 11 May 2011

The meeting between the seven-year-old boy and the 31-year-old man began awkwardly, as meetings of strangers often do. But then young Jacob Kowalik sized up the adult, and began to drop his guard. They played tic-tac-toe. They talked about hockey. Jacob and his parents invited Marshall Davis to their house for pizza, Jacob's fovourite meal. There also was a gift, a husky dog stuffed animal, although it was not for young Jacob. It was from him, a small token of thanks to this man who had given Jacob a gift that the boy was too young to understand fully.

Jacob's parents knew what Davis had done for their son, but how would they convey the magnitude of their gratitude? "What do you say to someone who saves your child's life?" Jennifer Kowalik later asked.

So she kept it simple.

"Thank you," she said, reaching out to give Davis a hug.

Gift of Life.

It all started with a swab of the cheek more than a decade ago, almost four years before Jacob was born. The a young collegiate fencer at the University of Florida with his sights set on law school, Davis saw that a bone marrow registry called Gift of Life was having a drive on campus. He and some friends offered their DNA samples; it seemed like the thing to do. He filled out the required paperwork and gave it little more thought.

Then, in the summer of 2009, he received a phone call. A five year old boy needed stem cells, and Davis was a match. This was his chance to save a little boy's life.

"Wow," Davis thought. "How cool."

He was excited, but he was scared, too, as he considered the seriousness of the commitment he faced. There was medical risk to him, although generally managable, he was told. Treaments before and during the cell harvest could be uncomfortable.

But if he did not do it, the chances of finding an equally good match, quickly, were slim.

For Jacob, this was the equivalent of winning the lottery. Doctors said the abnormalities in his marrow eventually would develop into acute leukaemia without the transplant. Davis matched seven of eight of Jacob's characteristics that are considered when pairing donors and recipients; even Jacob's immediate family members were not nearly as good as a match.

Davis knew he had to go through with it.

"We found a donor!" Becki Maloney, a nurse in Chicago's Children's Memorial Hospital, told Jacob's parents. They, too, were thrilled but, like Davis, initially hesitant. At this point, Jacob was not showing any external signs that he was sick. In fact, he appeared to be the picture of health, a gregarious, sports-loving first grader with a bis smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes. For him, a stem cell transplant came with its own risks and challenges, among them a common, potentially fatal complication called graft-versus-host-disease.

But his parents also knew this had to be done. This donor, and his stem cells, represented Jacob's best chance at life.

The procedure.

In the suburban Philadelphia where he lived with his wife Helen,Davis began treatments. As the stem cells multiplied in his blood stream, he felt archy, almost as if he had the flu- an expected symptom.

In October 2009, when it was time to harvest the stem cells, he travelled with his parents to the University of Maryland Medical Center in Baltimore. There, he was hooked up to a machine that, for six hours drew his blood and sifted out his stem cells before returning that blood to his body.

The stem cells were out on ice and flown to Chicago, where Jacob and his family were waiting. At this point, the process was still anonymous and would remain so for a year, although the Kowaliks were able to send cards to Davis, who had returned to normal life as an attorney and as fencing coach at Swarthmore College.

"Thank you for saving my brother," Jacob's older brother, Zach, said in a handmade card.

Finally, a year after the transplant, Davis and the Kowaliks were allowed to contact one another. They were in touch by e-mail at first and shared details about their lives.

Jacob, Davis learned, had indeed developed graft-versus-host-disease. He had lost his sandy brown hair and his skin had turned blotchy and red, and is still sometimes so raw it bleeds. He also wears special glasses to protect his light-sensitive eyes.

Typically, Jacob is very strong, his parents say. Occasionally the tears flow.

"He bottles it up," says his dad, Michael Kowalik, a salesman in the semiconductor business. "So it's a release. He needs to get it out.

Jacob also asks a lot of questions. "Why did I get sick?" he sometimes asks his parents. "When will I get better?"

He was aware that some of the other children he has met at the hospital have not made it. But increasingly, his parents feel confident he will. His doctors do, too.

"It is very favourable for him now. The biggest concern is if he gets an infection," says Dr Reggie Duerst, clinical director of the stem cell transplant unit at Children's Memorial.

First meeting.

Last month, Davis, his wife and his mother flew to Chicago for a national fencing championship and to meet Jacob and his family. Together, they visited the hospital where Jacob was treated; a reporter and photographer were invited along.

Jacob was shy. But his parents thought it important to share their story so that others might register to be donors.

"By telling your story, you could save another kid's life" Jacob's mum told him, on the way from their home in Chicago suburbs.

He stopped what he was doing. "What?" he asked.

"I think that's when he truly got it," his mom says. "The light bulb finally went off."

Jacob goes to the hospital twice a week for photopheresis treatments; his blood is exposed to light and medicine to help the donor cells adapt to his body. He also is on steroids, though he is being weaned from them.

During treatment, he played cards and joked around with Davis. Even after a single weekend together, there was a surprising comfort level there. The families already were planning their next visit together on the East Coast.

"So the beach next summer?" Davis asked Jacob. "I'll go, if you go."

"Maybe," Jacob said, grinning. "Maybe never."

He giggled. Davis shook his head and smiled, too.

Jacob now goes to school two days a week. Next year, he dreams of being back on the baseball diamond and soccer field. The Kowaliks thanked Davis and his family repeatedly, until his mother, Carol, had had enough: "No more thank-yous," she said.

"It felt good to know it was appreciated," her son added. " But this has been life-changing for us, too."

Long road to justice

* Extracted from The Star (Monday 25 April 2011)

It all started when Jane (not her real name) began returning from kindergarten in sets of underwear that were not her own. He grandparents John and Linda, who were taking care of her, were initially perplexed to discover this but accepted the explanation of the kindergarten that Jane was being given baths at the centre.

The discovery that something much more horrifying was happening to the active four-year-old was made months later, and it rocked the foundation of the family as well as sparked a three year uphill battle for justice.

"A kindergarten is supposed to be a safe haven for children. We were so stupid. We didn't realise what was happening," John said sadly.

The retiree, who is in sixties and resides in Penang, said eyebrows were raised when Jane complained of discomfort when using toilet. She was diagnosed with a recuring infection to the genital area, and later, discharge was found in her panties which led the Kohs to seek explanations from the kindergarten. The couple also sought the help of their daughter, a gynaecologist, which led to the discovery that the child had been sexually abused.

"Jane's parents, who are working outstation, were present when we found out and everyone was dazed and very, very angry. John and I were horrified. Our children had trusted us and put their child in our care and something horrible had happened to her," Linda said, with tears in her eyes.

Looking back, John said he and his wife blamed themselves for Jane's ordeal, although the child had not exhibited signs of distress during her four months at the kindy in early 2008. A police report was lodged and Jane was admitted to a government hospital for two days for observation.

"We were asked to make statements to the police and I met with the officer investigating Jane's case.

Over the next few weeks, statements were recorded from the child and a suspect - the co-owner of the kindergarten in Bukit Dumbar where Jane attended - was detained by the police.

Losing Hope
John called the police weekly for updates, but received a general response that the case was being investigated.
"Four months after the police report was lodged, we started to lose hope. Everything was "pending" and "under investigation" and we did not know to which stage investigation had proceeded.

"Even Jane's mother told us to forget about it as nothing would be done", Linda said. The experience took its toll on the couple as well, with John admitting that the family went through very low time, while Linda was hospitalised for depression.

Finally in October, Linda heard from a friend about the Women's Centre for Change (WCC) based in Penang and made an appoinment.

Centre executive director Loh Cheng Kooi and her team took up the case and set up meetings and sent letters to various parties like the police, the Attorney-General's office, state Welfare Department as well as the Women, Family and Community Development Ministry.

Finally in March 2010, almost two years since the incident had been reported, the kindergarten co-owner was charged in court with raping a child under age of 12 under Section 376(2)(e) of Penal Code.

Justice, at long last
We were so happy when we heard the case was finally on, although I was worried that the man may get off the hook," Linda said. John added that the weariness he had felt for almost two years lifted when trial began and the family started receiving updates from WWC, whose volunteer lawyer Karen Lai held a watching brief for the family.

"WCC helped us so much. Before the case, we had never been to court or had to see police. We didn't know what a prima facie case was or what the sequence of events would be. WCC took us through the whole court process so we understood what was happening," John said.

A year later, on the day of the verdict on March 29 this year, John was awakened at 10.45am by Linda's crying. The tears, however, were happy ones as court had convicted Ewe Peng Lip of rape, sentencing the 48 year old to 20 years' jail and 10 strokes of cane.

Ewe has since been granted a stay of execution pending an appeal to the High court and is out on bail. For John, the verdict was the best ending possible to the three-year ordeal.

"For me, the sentence wasn't so important. What he did can never be undone but it was important that he was found guilty," he said.

John and his wife's relationship with Jane's parents has been severely strained by the whole episode.

"Things haven't been the same between us since the incident,'' John said, hoping that reconciliations can be made in the future.

On their experience of seeking justice for their granddaughter , the couple said the journey had seemed hopeless at times, but giving up was never an option.

"We feel the whole experience was very hard but we could not give up. I owe it to my granddaughter for what happened to her,'' added John.

seasons of fun under the sun

* taken from the Star 23 June Wednesday 2010

When I see my teenager son seated at the computer table, I am transported back to the days when I was his age. How different were the activities which we had indulged in compared with the present generation. While the youths of today spend most of their time in front of their computers, engaged in endless chat-room conversations or online games, their counterparts in days of yore did just the opposite.

Even though 40 years have come to pass, I still have vivid recollections of my days spent under the sun. Though we did not have computers, Play Stations and handphones, boredom never featured in our vocabulary. I hail from a small town nestled between the hilly terrain bordering Kedah and Perak. I remember that every outdoor activity that my peers and I engaged in came complete with an unwritten and unique set of rules. The timing and duration of every popular pursuit that we indulged in seemed to follow a chronological order, like the seasons.

For instance, there would come particular time of the year when we find ourselves suddenly playing with tops. Every child would then go in search of suitably-sized tree branch. With a folding knife in hand, he would slice off the wood bit then be hammered carefully into the tapered end. The nail head would be snipped off with pincer, after which it would be honed to a sharp point with aid of a file.

The so called "top season" had turned some of us into experts in making our own tops. However, for the inept ones, they had to settle for a less elaborate design which could be made by driving the whole length of panel nail right through the middle of a pinang seed.

As for the rope, the free end would be glued using rubber latex to keep it from fraying. The other end would be knotted and secured with a bottle cap to act as a stop when spinning the top. When interest in top-spinning waned, another game would magically surface to take its place. It could be playing with bottle caps, flattened with a hammer and with a loop of thread inserted through two holes punched into the center of the caps. Using the thread, the metallic cap would then be spun at top speed to sever the thread of an opponent.

This game would then give way to yet another popular interest which involved lining up flattened cigarette boxes in a row on the ground, only to be mowed down lalter using pipes of rounded cement slaps flung from a distance. Another favourite pastime was collecting rubber seeds and turning them into minirattlers with dried stems of coconut fronds, bent and inserted through the middle of the seeds.

We discovered, too, that when the green fronds were twirled into a tapered spiral form and blown with mouth, beautiful high pitched as well as buzzing sounds would emanate from the large hollow end. Other times would be spent on fashioning our own slingshots from the twigs of guava trees or shaping and pasting our own kites from sliced bamboo shoots.

And yet there were some who enjoyed catching colourful dragonflies by their tails, or plucking the green pointed leaves off hibiscus plants wherein could be found the tiny "fighting" spiders.

Other more adventurous indulgences include swimming in rivers and cooling oneself under a roaring waterfall. The bolder ones would wander into jungle fringes to collect berries which were eaten on the spot. Some would venture into soggy softness of padi fields to catch vibrant-coloured fighting fish, at the risk of being bitten by leeches. Having the nerve to peel off leeches lodged between the toes was nothing to shout about.

As for girls, they filled their free time playing seven stones, rope skipping and hopping on the airplane shaped square boxes scrawled crudely with twigs on the ground. Another favourite pastime was collecting the tiny bright red seeds of Flame of the Forest. They girls played with the seeds by throwing them into the air, and catching them with the back of their palms.

Origami was another engaging pursuit. The kids took delight in folding pieces of paper into attractive shapes. With so many varied activities to keep us occupied, we had so much fun. We grew up strong, healthy, high-spirited and with treasure trove of memories.

Sad to say, if nothing is done to preserve these pursuits, a time will come when they will be forgotten or at best, be relegated to inconspicuous corner of the National Museum.