To my dear children,
The world you will be growing up in would be so much more perplexing and complicated. I pray you will make God your guiding light in every step of the way.
I had a childhood in a much simpler world.
When I was your age, the playgrounds I knew consisted of sand, granite fixtures, wooden splintered planks for see-saws and rusty merry-go-rounds.
The grandpa I knew grew a jackfruit tree so huge cats could sleep on its branches. The grandma I knew pierced my cousin’s ears with a hot blistering needle. I watched her kill rats with her wooden clogs. I watched him crack open jackfruits from his harvest.
I ate iced pops for ten cents and called my mother at a pay-phone with the same amount of money. My father had a pager louder than a siren.
I took school buses that did not have air conditioning and carried a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle school bag in purple. My favourite Ninja Turtle’s name was Leonardo. My sister’s was Michelangelo.
I listened to cassette tapes and made collections of my favourite songs by pressing the record button on a blank tape. I played handheld games that needed only four AA-sized batteries. I wrote to penpals, collected stamps and joined the Bookworm Club.
I ran around barefoot, ate dirt and chomped down curdled pig’s blood in my bowl of yong tau foo.
I threw coins in a wishing well and got a Boggle game set and a Charlie Brown metal pencil case for Christmas.
When my mother and father took pictures of me, we waited for almost a week before we could see them.
This was a picture taken almost three decades ago. No surprises here which one is your mother.
Someday, when you’re old enough to recall bits of your childhood, remember to write a letter back to Mama. I would like to hear what you thought your world was like.
Love always,
Mama
