Commonwealth Essay Competition 2005
Gee... one of my friends is so happy about getting a high commendation for his essay that he put up his whole essay in his blog. I might as well do the same! Note: My essay is definitely longer than Jared's.
A moment of realisation and growing up. Write an essay or a story.
8th of December 1941. “The Japanese have come! The Japanese have come! They have arrived in Malaya!” Then, on the 15th of August 1945: “The Japanese have surrendered! The English are coming back!” Such was the condition of war that we had to face, including myself. I was only a lad of thirteen then. Throughout these three years and eight months, my whole family had lived in fear, anxiety and uncertainty. Death came swift and sudden. The sounds of machine guns, rifles and bombs were heard from every direction. Blood could be seen on the streets everyday. At a certain home, wails of sorrow would reach our ears every night. People could be seen running, seeking shelter from air raids. Men who were caught roaming around would either be killed or taken to work in Burma. Mothers with their vulnerable infants were not spared either.
I was in deep muse for about fifteen minutes when my thoughts were shattered suddenly by the sudden struck of Beethoven’s Pathetique Sonata. While watching and listening to my fifteen-year-old son playing the piano, my thoughts soon wandered again and realised that death continues to remind us that there is actually no tomorrow. The war had proven this theory right. I began to appreciate things around me and to treasure the time I could spend now, for I would not know what might happen tomorrow. I shuddered in terror to evoke my horrifying memories. How weak man are! How merciless, too! We perish easily under the attacks of weapons we humans created. “Is war justified?” I wondered.
Soon, my thoughts wandered back to the days of pre-war. Ah, I treasured the good old days that I spent most at school – the kind faces and smiles of the La Sallian Brothers who taught us and to recall the times when my whole family lived happily and united. That came to a traumatic end when the first troops disembarked at the eastern coast of Malaya. On the 9th of January 1942, I was suddenly left homeless, penniless and worst of all, parentless. The Japanese invaded our home and captured my parents. They were then taken to the Kempeitai office whereas my siblings and I ran to my school to seek help and shelter from the Brothers. We were received with great sympathy and they feared most for the safety of our parents. After two days, the Brother Director of the school came to me and asked for a private conversation. He had come to deliver some news about my parents. My heart trembled.
“I’m afraid the news that I want to tell you will not please you altogether,” said he, sullenly. My heart began to sink. “I was in the Kempeitai office to find out the condition of your parents. They explained that your parents were suspected of being a secret agent for the British government. Your parents denied their statement, but the officers there refused to accept it. They began applying the element of force, but when that did not work, your parents had to face the ultimate ordeal. My boy, your parents are gone forever. They have been killed!”
You could at once picture the emptiness of my heart, the grief, the pain. “Oh, Brother Patrick,” I broke out, “Are you sure of that? Have you made sure that my parents have returned to the Lord? Oh, tell me that it isn’t true, Brother!” He looked at me sadly, and then stared at the ground. I understood my situation promptly. Brother Patrick took a step towards me and gave me a comforting hug. Tears rolled down from my eyes to think that I was now alone to face the challenges of the world. I had to take care of my siblings now as I am the eldest among the four. Nevertheless, with no parental experience, how could they sustain as I could not even take care of myself? Brother Patrick fathomed what was going on in my mind.
“Peter,” he said, a bit nervously. “I know that it is a great blow to you and your siblings. But you can’t return home, lest you will be caught and murdered. Do not risk the lives of your siblings and yourself. Would you like to stay here together with the rest of the Brothers? Would you like me to be your sole guardian?”
I looked at him. I was incredulous. Here is a man who is willing to undertake an additional burden when he himself had had too many other responsibilities to fulfil. “But, dear Brother, would we not be a nuisance to you? You are already a busy man yourself! Your kindness is great, but…”
“No more from you, son,” he interjected, quickly. “It is the duty of a La Sallian Brother to protect the oppressed, especially children in great need. Let me assure you that you are by no means a burden to me.” What words! What bravery! His benevolence melted my heart. Today, I still remember and revere him for being such a concerned guardian. With great patience, he educated my siblings and me. Even after the war had ended, he subsidised our education to the highest level possible. All of us took the Cambridge School Certificate Examination, and we passed with flying colours. I recalled seeing him in a jovial mood to learn that we had done well. Now, when I relate my stories to my children, there is always a mention of Brother Director Patrick. He was a man of whom I would not be what I am today without him. I pray to the Lord and thank Him always for the compassion that my siblings and I received from Him through Brother Patrick.
Throughout these years, I lived based on principles that Brother Patrick had taught us. On a few occasions I remembered him saying, “Everybody grows old, but how many would actually grow up?” and “I live on a simple philosophy, which is to make sure that I start my day well so that I can fulfil my tasks happily and that everybody is satisfied, too.” He had such a captivating smile always, and his most enchanting words were, “Could I help you in any way?” Dear Brother, thank you so much for your guidance!
Many years had passed since and there was great rejoice in the year 1957 when Tunku Abdul Rahman, Malaya’s first Prime Minister, officially declared its independence. I soon realised that this auspicious event was successful not because it was done by one man, but by a group of patriotic pacifists. It marked the day of our liberation, our freedom. “Did you realise that the independence of our country is achieved without war?” asked Brother Patrick. “You see, as long as there is diplomacy, every matter and problem can be resolved properly and diplomatically without combat. Learn from this example, Peter, and you are bound to achieve success easily in the near future.” These words still ring in my heart till today.
After I succeeded in my Cambridge School Certificate Examination, I applied to be a teacher, a profession that I admired most at that time. The teaching experience I got was nevertheless a thrilling one. I enjoyed mixing with students and listening to their problems and opinions. More often than not I offered them advice about certain matters whenever possible. At times, I related to them about the kindness and guidance that I received from the Brothers and how they inspired me to be a better person. My students just listened to me in great awe.
I used to read historical books, especially those on the biography of the world’s renowned politicians, in particular Napoleon Bonaparte, Sir Winston Churchill, President Roosevelt, Josef Stalin, Dr. Sun Yat-Sen and many others. I recalled a few occasions when Brother Patrick gave me some of these books as presents. Till today, they still stand at my bookshelves, proudly exhibiting its great reading value. “You must read about these people,” Brother Patrick’s words rang in my ears. “They are the inspirations of the world. The world changed because of them.” Indeed, they had inspired me to dive into the world of politics.
“Remember, Peter, that to become a good and wise politician, you must always think about your people,” advised Brother Patrick. “To gain the people’s trust, you must show them your trustworthiness and your calibre. Do not neglect your duties that await you.” Many thanks, most revered Brother! Today, although I have retired, I am still recognised as one of my country’s most committed politicians. However, be rest assured, Brother, that my aim is not to acquire fame, but to serve my ever loyal citizens. The books that I read, the advice that I kept in my mind, the experience that I obtained and the maturity of the mind corroborated my success in life.
While I was still in my early thirties, I would visit my parents’ grave at least once a month. There I would talk to them about my achievements; I would show them that I had grown up already. Oh, if only they were still here to witness my accomplishment! I would pray that may my parents’ souls rest in eternal peace. Fear not, Mum and Dad, for your boy has grown up!
Life is indeed a roller coaster ride. There are the ups and downs. There were times when I faced challenges as a politician. There were occasions where my working table was full with petitions and uprising problems. Frequently, I turned to Brother Patrick for help. He was the only person whom I would consult for assistance, and he was never weary to offer me a few words.
“Remember the Lord always, my son,” said he. “Have faith in Him. Pray that you may overcome these obstacles. Believe in Him, ask Him for further guidance, and He will shine the light towards a brighter and better road. Don’t forget that wisdom is also just as important. As the people’s representative, you must be wise in making decisions. Always think twice and weigh the consequences of every action first before you carry it out.” These words were pondered most.
So many years had passed. Only three years ago, Brother Patrick was called back to the Lord. May the kind Lord bless his soul. He was by far the kindest person I had ever met. He was my road to a promising destiny. Had he not shown me that maturity, wisdom, love and experience are the essence towards a flourishing life? Has God not shown me the path towards life? Such were the memories that I recalled. What a moment of realisation!
“Father! Father!” my son called, shaking of my reverie. “My teacher has asked all the students to write about the history of one of our family members. I’d like to write about your history. Would you mind relating your life story to me?” I smiled at him, sat up properly on my rocking chair, and then began our tête-à-tête.
I was in deep muse for about fifteen minutes when my thoughts were shattered suddenly by the sudden struck of Beethoven’s Pathetique Sonata. While watching and listening to my fifteen-year-old son playing the piano, my thoughts soon wandered again and realised that death continues to remind us that there is actually no tomorrow. The war had proven this theory right. I began to appreciate things around me and to treasure the time I could spend now, for I would not know what might happen tomorrow. I shuddered in terror to evoke my horrifying memories. How weak man are! How merciless, too! We perish easily under the attacks of weapons we humans created. “Is war justified?” I wondered.
Soon, my thoughts wandered back to the days of pre-war. Ah, I treasured the good old days that I spent most at school – the kind faces and smiles of the La Sallian Brothers who taught us and to recall the times when my whole family lived happily and united. That came to a traumatic end when the first troops disembarked at the eastern coast of Malaya. On the 9th of January 1942, I was suddenly left homeless, penniless and worst of all, parentless. The Japanese invaded our home and captured my parents. They were then taken to the Kempeitai office whereas my siblings and I ran to my school to seek help and shelter from the Brothers. We were received with great sympathy and they feared most for the safety of our parents. After two days, the Brother Director of the school came to me and asked for a private conversation. He had come to deliver some news about my parents. My heart trembled.
“I’m afraid the news that I want to tell you will not please you altogether,” said he, sullenly. My heart began to sink. “I was in the Kempeitai office to find out the condition of your parents. They explained that your parents were suspected of being a secret agent for the British government. Your parents denied their statement, but the officers there refused to accept it. They began applying the element of force, but when that did not work, your parents had to face the ultimate ordeal. My boy, your parents are gone forever. They have been killed!”
You could at once picture the emptiness of my heart, the grief, the pain. “Oh, Brother Patrick,” I broke out, “Are you sure of that? Have you made sure that my parents have returned to the Lord? Oh, tell me that it isn’t true, Brother!” He looked at me sadly, and then stared at the ground. I understood my situation promptly. Brother Patrick took a step towards me and gave me a comforting hug. Tears rolled down from my eyes to think that I was now alone to face the challenges of the world. I had to take care of my siblings now as I am the eldest among the four. Nevertheless, with no parental experience, how could they sustain as I could not even take care of myself? Brother Patrick fathomed what was going on in my mind.
“Peter,” he said, a bit nervously. “I know that it is a great blow to you and your siblings. But you can’t return home, lest you will be caught and murdered. Do not risk the lives of your siblings and yourself. Would you like to stay here together with the rest of the Brothers? Would you like me to be your sole guardian?”
I looked at him. I was incredulous. Here is a man who is willing to undertake an additional burden when he himself had had too many other responsibilities to fulfil. “But, dear Brother, would we not be a nuisance to you? You are already a busy man yourself! Your kindness is great, but…”
“No more from you, son,” he interjected, quickly. “It is the duty of a La Sallian Brother to protect the oppressed, especially children in great need. Let me assure you that you are by no means a burden to me.” What words! What bravery! His benevolence melted my heart. Today, I still remember and revere him for being such a concerned guardian. With great patience, he educated my siblings and me. Even after the war had ended, he subsidised our education to the highest level possible. All of us took the Cambridge School Certificate Examination, and we passed with flying colours. I recalled seeing him in a jovial mood to learn that we had done well. Now, when I relate my stories to my children, there is always a mention of Brother Director Patrick. He was a man of whom I would not be what I am today without him. I pray to the Lord and thank Him always for the compassion that my siblings and I received from Him through Brother Patrick.
Throughout these years, I lived based on principles that Brother Patrick had taught us. On a few occasions I remembered him saying, “Everybody grows old, but how many would actually grow up?” and “I live on a simple philosophy, which is to make sure that I start my day well so that I can fulfil my tasks happily and that everybody is satisfied, too.” He had such a captivating smile always, and his most enchanting words were, “Could I help you in any way?” Dear Brother, thank you so much for your guidance!
Many years had passed since and there was great rejoice in the year 1957 when Tunku Abdul Rahman, Malaya’s first Prime Minister, officially declared its independence. I soon realised that this auspicious event was successful not because it was done by one man, but by a group of patriotic pacifists. It marked the day of our liberation, our freedom. “Did you realise that the independence of our country is achieved without war?” asked Brother Patrick. “You see, as long as there is diplomacy, every matter and problem can be resolved properly and diplomatically without combat. Learn from this example, Peter, and you are bound to achieve success easily in the near future.” These words still ring in my heart till today.
After I succeeded in my Cambridge School Certificate Examination, I applied to be a teacher, a profession that I admired most at that time. The teaching experience I got was nevertheless a thrilling one. I enjoyed mixing with students and listening to their problems and opinions. More often than not I offered them advice about certain matters whenever possible. At times, I related to them about the kindness and guidance that I received from the Brothers and how they inspired me to be a better person. My students just listened to me in great awe.
I used to read historical books, especially those on the biography of the world’s renowned politicians, in particular Napoleon Bonaparte, Sir Winston Churchill, President Roosevelt, Josef Stalin, Dr. Sun Yat-Sen and many others. I recalled a few occasions when Brother Patrick gave me some of these books as presents. Till today, they still stand at my bookshelves, proudly exhibiting its great reading value. “You must read about these people,” Brother Patrick’s words rang in my ears. “They are the inspirations of the world. The world changed because of them.” Indeed, they had inspired me to dive into the world of politics.
“Remember, Peter, that to become a good and wise politician, you must always think about your people,” advised Brother Patrick. “To gain the people’s trust, you must show them your trustworthiness and your calibre. Do not neglect your duties that await you.” Many thanks, most revered Brother! Today, although I have retired, I am still recognised as one of my country’s most committed politicians. However, be rest assured, Brother, that my aim is not to acquire fame, but to serve my ever loyal citizens. The books that I read, the advice that I kept in my mind, the experience that I obtained and the maturity of the mind corroborated my success in life.
While I was still in my early thirties, I would visit my parents’ grave at least once a month. There I would talk to them about my achievements; I would show them that I had grown up already. Oh, if only they were still here to witness my accomplishment! I would pray that may my parents’ souls rest in eternal peace. Fear not, Mum and Dad, for your boy has grown up!
Life is indeed a roller coaster ride. There are the ups and downs. There were times when I faced challenges as a politician. There were occasions where my working table was full with petitions and uprising problems. Frequently, I turned to Brother Patrick for help. He was the only person whom I would consult for assistance, and he was never weary to offer me a few words.
“Remember the Lord always, my son,” said he. “Have faith in Him. Pray that you may overcome these obstacles. Believe in Him, ask Him for further guidance, and He will shine the light towards a brighter and better road. Don’t forget that wisdom is also just as important. As the people’s representative, you must be wise in making decisions. Always think twice and weigh the consequences of every action first before you carry it out.” These words were pondered most.
So many years had passed. Only three years ago, Brother Patrick was called back to the Lord. May the kind Lord bless his soul. He was by far the kindest person I had ever met. He was my road to a promising destiny. Had he not shown me that maturity, wisdom, love and experience are the essence towards a flourishing life? Has God not shown me the path towards life? Such were the memories that I recalled. What a moment of realisation!
“Father! Father!” my son called, shaking of my reverie. “My teacher has asked all the students to write about the history of one of our family members. I’d like to write about your history. Would you mind relating your life story to me?” I smiled at him, sat up properly on my rocking chair, and then began our tête-à-tête.
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