Not Liking the food you have daily?

Takeaway fastfood not tasty enough?
How about some cereal and healthy juice then? Too healthy?
Some tosai would be tastier perhaps? Too Spicy?
How about something not so spicy but delicious? Too messy to eat?

This should be fine, it's not messy to eat this one for sure. Oh, you don't like bread?
Pasta? I think it's a good choice. Oh? too western?

With this variety here, I'm sure there's something you like right? No? Errrr.......last choice, PIZZA?

Everyday, we get to choose, but often, we take those choices for granted. Sometimes we complain too much with statements like

That again?

Eeeeyerrrr, I don't like the smell of the food.

Cold already, not nice anymore.

The shop has no air-cond, I don't want to eat there......

These people have no choice!

Sometimes, they don't even have anything to eat. They don't even have a choice.

Please don't waste food. Think of these people.

If you have too much, give them some.

Ever since I came back from Sydney, I have been a regular hiker. I go hiking whenever I can at Bukit Jambul. The journey is not very long if one uses the two most common routes, he or she will take between 10 - 30 minutes to reach the top of the hill. Though the journey seems to be a little too short, it serves as an excellent cardiovascular exercise to many, thanks to the steepness of the hill.
I enjoy my hikes up the hill. It provides me with a sense of satisfaction to reach the top. The satisfaction is even greater when I beat my own timing. My first hike up took me 30 minutes but I improved my timing as time went by. These days, it takes me between 10-15 minutes to reach the top. I am still not contented with my time, I believe I can improve my time by increasing my speed in time to come. I don’t intent to push myself too hard though, I have to be kind to my own body and also to my heart.
Bukit Jambul has been a safe place to hike thus far, it is rarely isolated in the mornings and evenings and many friendships were cultivated through hiking. Regulars would notice and greet each other along the way. Many people have small chats when they take their rest on the top of the hill and some regulars actually came together to create a little service centre for the public at the top of the hill. The top of the hill is not very wide but they have actually built a wooden gym, equipped with old fashioned gym facilities for men especially to do their weight training. Besides that, there are also a few simple common exercise equipments at the open space and there is a little shed that serves drinks to all hikers for free. Everyone uses the place responsibly as if it was their own home.
I appreciate the efforts of those volunteers who set up the place. I enjoy my hikes and feel very much at home whenever I’m there. I guess this is one of the beauties of Penang, despite the vast development in the state, such pleasant environments still exists. Little things like this makes me glad to be home.


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I love Fridays. This is because it marks the end of the week and the students whom I teach on Friday afternoons are really fun. They make me laugh all the time. Talkative and naughty they are but it's really fun teaching them. They are down to earth and they communicate, so I know how they feel in my class and I know how to improve on my teaching methods. Ah, I love Fridays!

Some people have no shame. They take what’s not theirs with no sense of guilt. Such people are real pests. In my father’s vocabulary, they are called skunks. They loot and take from others without even asking. Not because they are poor or are in need but because they are plain greedy.
Watching Aunt Matty’s house being looted is a real heartache. When Aunt Mary died, some looters came and took all that was valuable from the home without even asking. They helped themselves to the things the moment Aunt Mary was cremated. Things that brought sentimental value to the family was removed by people whom we knew as well as strangers. None of them asked for permission. To those people, the owner was dead and all that was in that house was theirs to take. After they had taken all they wanted, some of them had the cheek to call us, telling us that we ought to bring what was left behind into our home. Yes, I’m still disappointed towards those people.
When the house was empty, another group of people came to help themselves with the house. They removed all the iron they could find from the house, even the cover of the sewage tank, leaving the compound to stink of sewage. Who on earth gave them the permission I wonder. Often, people blame the drug addicts for it but I doubt the addicts could have done it on their own as the iron gate and doors were huge and heavy, whoever removed them obviously had the right equipment to remove it from the walls and also had a big vehicle to transport it away. Those greedy thieves stole away iron and metal worth more than RM 1000. They stripped my aunt’s house naked, leaving it without windows, doors and grills. Passers-by asked if the house was hunted.
Last month, the real estate agent put up a sign to sell the house and a few buyers did call to enquire. Today, as I rode passed the house, I was shocked to find that someone actually stole the main gate of the house. I am furious. Why are people so thick skinned? Why do they invade into other people’s private land and just take whatever they like? Don’t they even know how to respect others? Why do business in such an unethical and unprofessional manner? Skunks indeed these people are, they invade people’s house and leave a whole lot of heartaches for those who loved Aunts Matty and Mary.

Suddenly, I miss food. I want to eat! Even a simple toasted bread with butter would do. The aroma from the canteen is killing me. I just want to eat.

I must have self control and discipline, I can't follow my emotions. Patience Jennifer!

I have been abstaining from good food for awhile due to a few reasons. I know it sounds pathetic but the truth is that I've been abstaining because I am broke, yes, my finances are down to -ve. I'm on a loan and once my salary is out, I have to pay back my loan. I'm also abstaining because the toxin and cholesterol in my body is not on a satisfactory level and I've been advised to do whatever I can to reduce it or else I might invite unwanted diseases into my life. So I have not been eating out. When I'm out, I watch my friends eat while I just drink 'plain water'. Pathetic and depressing it may seem but it actually works. My toxic and cholesterol level has dropped.

I'm not turning into a freak but I'm determind to stay healthy. I will still eat out with friends when we meet but of course that will have to wait until I get my salary. For now, Jenn has to be strong to overcome all forms of temptations.

By the way, I found a stall in a food court that sells Home cooked French Food. I'm waiting to try it out. It's cheaper than KFC mind you. I saw an 'Ang Mo' cooking behind the stall.

I have not used my brains this much before, it is really tiring. I felt mentally drained after class yesterday . The feeling was worst than being physically exhausted. It not only tested me on my physical strength but also on my patience, perseverance and knowledge. For every move I made required me to think, how to use the right method or approach on different students.
I was so exhausted yesterday that I went to bed at 9.30pm last night. Not a single sound managed to disturb me from my sleep.
I love Thursdays because it's the only relaxing day at work and Fridays because it means the weekend is near.

I'm so happy today for some very simple reasons.

1. I only start work officially as a full time lecturer on the 1st of July. As for now, I'm employed as a part-time lecturer due to some paperwork reasons.
2. Since I start officially only on the 1st of July, that means I will be paid the part-time lecturer's wage for another week. It is a big deal and bonus for me because they pay me peanuts as a full-time lecturer and my part-time salary is actually double my full time salary.
3. The convocation for the college is this Saturday, and since I'm still a part-time lecturer on that day, I do not have to attend the convocation. I do not have to cancel my classes this Friday to attend the rehearsal and also do not have to attend the ceremony itself. I do not need to wear the convocation robe and walk into the hall with other lecturers in the procession. Gosh, I'm so happy.

Yes I seem to be very money minded. I can't help it, I've not been receiving any income for the past six months and my bank account is completely drained. I need money to pay up for things. Besides, I want to save up enough to realized one of my many dreams. No, no don't worry, I'm not turning into a materialistic person, I'm talking about paying up for essential basic things like car maintainence and household expenses.

Every motorcyclist’s nightmare is to be drenched on the road. As I was driving to work this morning, it rained heavily. Hundreds of motorcyclist were caught in the rain but many had to continue their journey in order to be on time for work or school. I felt sorry for these people and was very grateful to be driving a car instead of the bike.
What caught my attention was the sight of this father carrying his little girl on the bike. She sat in front of the bike with her legs in the basket while her dad tried his very best to shield her from the rain. I was very touched by what I saw. I’m sure that the father loved the little girl very much for he could have easily used the weather as an excuse to not send his daughter to school.
Sometimes we use the weather as an excuse to cancel appointments, to skip classes or important meetings. But this father, got himself all wet so that his little girl would not miss class. After leaving her at school, it will definitely be another wet ride home or to the work place for this man, yet he took the trouble.
Memories of my own school days came back when papa would send me on his bike to school and he would wrap my school shoes and school bag in the plastic bag so that they remain dry when I get to school. I never felt grateful at that time because most of my classmate’s parents did the same thing. Perhaps we took it for granted that it was a parent’s responsibility. I feel different today, thankful to have experienced my father’s love.

An accident happened right in front of my neighbor’s gate today. A car had knocked a motorcyclist down. When I opened my window to see, the motorcyclist was on the ground. It was dark and I could not see much, I only saw some figures. After switching on our main light, I walked out to check if everything was alright. The motorcyclist was bleeding, he was injured and his bike was damaged. From his conversation with the car driver, it sounded like the motorcyclist was at fault.
The driver was not injured but he seemed to be uninterested with the motorcyclist’s injury. He was telling him that he was wrong and constantly reminded him that his car was scratched and that he should pay. The poor motorcyclist kept wiping his wound with his hands, he was apologetic and did not even dare to look at his bike’s condition. A few people started to gather around the scene and I decided to walk away from the crowd.
I wouldn’t know how reckless the motorcyclist was but I thought perhaps the driver should have at least showed some concern towards the poor guy’s injury before he harped on the compensation. His car was an expensive car while the motorcyclist was obviously not rich. Yet the driver gave me the impression of a bully.
Yesterday, I met up with an ex-Tian Zhuan member. She commented that Penangites tend to be pretty calculative. I see some truth in her comment, if fact, I think what happened tonight could pretty much be a solid example.

I was in the mood to donate some blood this morning. After making sure that today is a working Saturday, I made my way to the Penang GH, the very first place I donated my blood when I reached eighteen. I was really eager to donate blood again. The last time I went to the blood bank was eight months ago.

Much to my dissapointment, the blood bank was closed. The notice wrote that they only open from 9am - 5pm from Mondays to Fridays. It is a setback for me. For me, the blood bank would get more donors if they operate after office hours as well so that people like me, who work during office hours do not have to take leave to donate blood. Perhaps that is why the blood bank is always running low in its stock. People who want to donate blood just can't do it as the hours are not suitable.

Nightmare

I had a nightmare last night, no it was not what you or my students would imagine. I was not chased by a ghost or some wild animal. I dreamed of my father being physically strong and highly active, but with the mind of an Alzheimer patient (which is what he is experiencing at the moment). My dream started off with him doing some gardening in our garden, removing all the plants, throwing away the things that were important to the house and leaving behind what was not necessary. After that, he walked out of our compound without our knowledge. We had to comb through the streets to look for him and when he came back, he turned our kitchen upside down by putting inappropriate things there.
The dream was so real. It was pretty much disturbing for dad is beginning to show signs and symptoms of what I had described earlier about my dream. The only difference is that he has never done all the three things I mentioned together. He has walked out of the hospital ward before without our knowledge, he has placed inappropriate things in places before and yes he has pulled out plants from the garden before. But all of these took place at a different time. I can’t imagine myself coping with him if he were to do it all spontaneously at the same time. It would be my nightmare turned reality.
At the moment, I’m reading a book written by a lady who suffered from Alzheimer disease. She wrote the book at the early stage of her disease while her mental state of mind was still stable. It’s a good book but very emotional. As I read the book, I felt as if God is trying to tell me what papa is going through, asking me to be patient towards him, to understand his condition. Alzheimer is one of the worst disease one could ever ask for. There is no cure for it neither can it be controlled. What leads to Alzheimer disease? I don’t know but I sure hope that papa will be the only and the last person I ever know who has this disease. No one deserves to suffer this way.

Jaga Kereta

As many have said, I am an obliging person. I have this tendency to obey instructions even though I do not always agree with what I’m asked to do. Often, I do it willingly but there have been some experiences which frustrated me. Sometimes I get frustrated because of my own failure to reject unreasonable requests especially when it comes from strangers whom I don’t know.
I have no problems with street people. I agree that they have the right to decide on the kind of lifestyle they choose to live. However, I find it very annoying to have individuals who claim public properties as their own. I despise people who demand for parking fees on parking lots that they do not own. These annoying beings are found everywhere in Penang. The moment one parks their car on a non city council car park, these people will walk towards your car and expect you to give them a token for their so called ‘jaga kereta’. They have the cheek to scrutinize and criticize those who do not condone with their demands. All these while, I have been obliging towards these people. I give them what they expect because I fear for my own safety. I condone to their expectations but always feel frustrated after that for giving in even though I know that it’s wrong.
Things changed today when I parked by a roadside. I came back to my car only to find a man expecting me and my friend to pay for our parking. My friend said “ini tempat awam”, and he asked us to have pity on him. Prior to our encounter with him, my friend had told me that she was broke. I remembered our conversation when the man asked for the money and I asked myself why should my friend give him the money when she herself did not have enough to spend? And so, I spontaneously instructed my friend to go into her own car while I went into mine. Realizing that he was not going to get anything from any of us, that man knocked on my window and demanded that I paid, ignoring him, I started my engine, he grumbled and banged on my car, kicking my car he cursed and ridiculed me. I gave him an angry stare and drove off. Ahead of me was a police on petrol, I was tempted to report him to the police but I did not.
That encounter was a little scary but somehow, I was actually glad that I did not give in to that man. By the way, he smelled of alcohol.

When you speak vulgar.....

Whenever I enter a class, I practice the policy of no foreign languages. Of course sometimes, I’ll be a little lenient by allowing some to explain or teach their friends using other languages. When it comes to ordinary conversations or discussions, my students are only allowed to speak in English and no other languages. Some students enjoy it, because they get to speak broken English without being worried about others making fun of them. The only unfortunate thing is that their vocabulary is not too good and to make things worst, many of them seem to know explicit words better than other ordinary words. Perhaps it the type of books they read, perhaps it’s the type of website that they surf, I don’t know how they learned those words.
Today, as I was teaching, I overheard a boy saying ‘F%^#’ you. I announced to the class that I did not want to hear anyone using vulgar words in my class and all of them just smiled at me. Ten minutes later, I heard ‘F#@^’ you coming from the same boy again. I gave him a disapproving look to indicate that I heard him. Half an hour passed and I heard him utter another vulgar word. I did what I had to do. I gave him my dictionary and asked him to search for the meaning of that particular word and I made him do 10 sentences using that #*$@ word in it’s original meaning. Obviously, it was not easy.
I teach in eight classes, five of which are filled with very cheeky but good natured boys. They are said to be the most difficult to teach in campus due to their background. They are a nice bunch but sometimes they need to be taught some discipline. It is not easy to teach them, often, I get worn out teaching them for they really can be a handful. Sometimes they talk too much and nonsense in class but they are always well behaved. They are rarely late for class and they always pass up their assignments. They are not the cream of the crop but the honest truth is that I find fulfillment in teaching them because I see them progress in their studies every week. So most of the time when I am teaching AELE 0043, I walk in happily with a smile. They call me:- Teacher, Ah………not Teacher or Ms. Jennifer. Some funny ones will call me, Lecturer, Ah…..

What happened to my dream? This is the question I’ve been asked by many. Have I forgotten totally about it?
The honest truth is that my dream at the moment, is the last thing on my mind. I’m now set in an environment where I do not live a life for me and myself only. My active involvement is vital in the current environment that I am in. Being new to the arena, there’s a lot for me to learn and there are many things that I cannot ignore.
Since moving back, my routine has changed and I’m still trying very much to adapt to this new environment. I’m still adjusting and indeed I do miss the personal privacy I used to enjoy back in Xavier Hall. I have put aside the many things that I used to enjoy doing because I still have not found a way to make time for myself without neglecting the things that I ought to do and at the same time not overtire myself.
As much as I love cooking, there is hardly any opportunity for me to explore in the kitchen. My parents hardly eat and there is no one to eat what I have prepared. Besides, my parents’ diet are pretty much limited and there are many ingredients which I need to omit if I am to cook for them. It’s very discouraging for me to cook when there’s no one to eat. For now, I’m taking a little break from the kitchen, but if someone with an appetite happens to come by, I guess I wouldn’t mind getting my hands dirty once again.

Is it love?

People say, blood is thicker than water. There is indeed some truth in this saying. Our family is somehow part of who we are. We may try to run away for as far as we want from our family, but the truth is, we can never be able to run away from the reality of having a family even though we may despise them.

He left in a taxi this morning, it was actually sad to see him go. Due to his age, I might never ever see him again. Although I never did fancy him, he was someone I grew up knowing, a person who like it or not had an influence in my life.

We share the same father but our encounters with him are different. All four of us sisters remember papa for different reasons. My other sisters did not know that papa loved Sarsi.. “Sarsi ci kuan, seng kak noh aw”, was papa’s common phrase each time we visited the coffee shop when I was a kid. “Sarsi ci kuan, seng kak noh aw” means “one bottle of Sarsi and two glasses of ice” in Hokkein.
When I was a kid, I used to follow papa to town to pay the bills. I looked forward to those moments because a trip to town also meant that I would get to eat my favorite “Char Koay Teow” and “Sarsi”. “Char Koay Teow” was the only food and “Sarsi” was the only drink papa knew how to order or rather the only combination of meal which he enjoyed. We always shared the bottle of “Sarsi” because I could not finish the whole bottle by myself due to the soda in the drink. As I grew older, things changed, Papa had other interests and eventually those coffee shop outings with papa stopped.
Today was “Father’s Day”. We went out for lunch after mass just to celebrate “Father’s Day”. Suddenly, I had the urge to order “Sarsi” for papa. Interestingly, my sister poured half a bottle of “Sarsi” for papa and she conveniently gave me the other half telling me to finish it off because papa could not finish the whole bottle of “Sarsi” due to the soda. Yes, we had “sarsi ci kuan, seng kak noh aw” today, but the one who made the order was not papa, it was me. Times have changed.

I can’t recall all the teachers who taught me but there are a few who left vivid memories in my mind. Among those whom I vividly remember till today are my three English teachers namely Pn. Tiong, Pn. Anna Khor and Ms. Rovena Capel. Today, I bumped into Pn. Tiong in church. The feeling was sweet for the last time I spoke to her was when I took this final photo with her 10years ago back in school.
Pn Tiong never taught English in my class, my encounter with her was through the school debating team. I was sent to her for training and her command of English left me in awe. She was unique, different from my other teachers. She was one of the rare Chinese teachers in school who hardly knew Mandarin. She had a charisma which I always admired and yes, she had a husband who was stunning, a blue eyed Eurasian professor from USM. Indeed, she was someone I looked up to.
I was a dummy when I joined the debating team. It was not what I was interested in. I was forced to be in the team because my English teacher sent me to her. Despite us being uninterested in debating, Pn. Tiong groomed us pretty well, good enough to beat our opponents in the inter school debating competition and enter the district level finals which we lost eventually. Though we lost, I gained confidence in myself through her guidance. I learned to write and think critically, to put my thoughts into words.
I have always considered myself to be a small fry, someone who did not leave much impact in other people’s life. Therefore, each time an old teacher remembers me, my heart really leaps with joy. Pn. Tiong remembered me today and yes it really makes me happy to know that.


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I have eaten more salt than you

After spending a day out, I was looking forward to spending an evening for myself, to do some reflection, read a book and rest early. Five minutes after I began my relaxing evening, in walks cousin “who has eaten more rice, more salt” than I. The end to my beautiful evening.
“I was in Aunty T’s house last week, she told me that you are back in Penang already and asked me to visit you, so I mah come and see you lor. I want to see if Australia has changed you or not, check whether you have lost or gain weight”
“Yeah right!” I thought.
“ So you still want to bake cakes ah? Before you went you said you want to bake cake and sell. So how now?”
I never told him that I wanted to bake cakes and sell (eventhough I did consider it before), it was him who forced the idea into me, he insisted that French Confectionary was a sure high profit generator and forced me to agree that I should bake those cakes and sell. Constantly indicating that I’d be a fool if I do not venture into it.
And so, my three hour ordeal with him began, I was questioned for not remaining in Sydney when opportunities were right in front of my nose. I had a one and a half hour quack lecture on how to do business, he fed me with tons and tons of suggestions of which I wondered why he never considered to do those business himself.
“You all (me and my sisters) are lucky, not like me, you know ah, I have gone through moments in life when I had nothing to eat you know, and yet I survived. You all don’t know what I have been through. Some people are lucky, they are born with the silver spoon in their mouth, they don’t understand what suffering is like. I have experienced it all lah, you ask my friends, they can tell you what I’ve been through. You all are lucky and smart, you have a degree, I‘m not smart like you all, I don‘t have a degree, but I‘m not stupid also you know, I also can think very creatively one”
And he went on and on and on about the business ideas and constantly reminded me that us the Vaz sisters are luckier than he is because his parents were hopeless. My mom on the other hand enjoyed the whole ordeal. She found it amusing to see him attacking me, what more to hear him constantly say that she was a better parent compared to his parents. He continued harping about me wasting the opportunity to settle down in Australia when I had the chance and that I am not brave enough to be a risk taker and venture into my business.
I was fed up and tired, I asked him if he was willing to move into our house and look after my parents while I pursue my dreams in Australia in accordance to what he suggested. He stared at me and shut up for at least five minutes. That five minutes was glorious.
Before he left he said, “haiyah, I did not know you have moved back here because you wanted to look after your parents, no wonder, I could not understand why you still chose to come back from Australia.”

=.=!!!
Deep inside I thought, “duh, I tried telling you all these while but you just wouldn’t listen.”

10 years ago, a man, whom I saw as an elder, locked me in my own room and kissed me on my lips. I was very young and naive then. I only pushed him and moved away from him. He asked me why? I said, I didn’t like it and he questioned me for not allowing him to show love and affection towards me. It was a common thing for us to greet each other by kissing on the cheeks but I was sure that his kissing of my lips was definitely of a different intention. I managed to free myself and walked out of my own room. Since that very moment, my disappointment towards him never seized. I even told my mom that I wanted to stay in my friend’s house because I could not face him. I never told my dad about it because I did not want hurt my dad’s feelings due to his relationship with that man. For 10 years, I successfully avoided him. I managed to pretend that he never existed in my life.
A few days ago, this man appeared with his bags in my house. He had come to Malaysia for a holiday and had asked to spend ten days in my house. I was freaking mad for two main reasons. Firstly, he came unannounced, expecting us to provide him with some Malaysian hospitality when we ourselves were struggling with our challenges at home. Secondly, I did not want to have him coming into my life after what had happened 10 years ago; yes, I was scared that history would repeat and of course I did not want to feel insecure in my own house.
And so, I vented my anger by sharing with those whom I thought would understand. I gave him names. I called him a “Nightmare” and “headache” and I cursed him behind his back. I felt good because all who lent me their ears agreed that he was indeed a nightmare. Today is his second day in my house. Though I’m still weary of his reputation, my anger towards him has been diluted. In fact, I do sense some guilt within me. I feel bad for calling him names. I feel bad for backstabbing him. I felt that I was being unfair towards him. Though he forced a kiss on me before, it doesn’t mean that I had the right to destroy him the way I did. Yesterday, I bought him satay and nyonya kuihs on my way back from work, today I planned to bring him out for dinner and tomorrow, I might actually bring him to town just for an outing. I have no motives in doing so but it does not mean that I’m totally fine with the person that he is. I keep my distance from him, no body contact at all, not even a handshake. Each time I walk into my own room, I lock the door immediately. Yes the fear is still there and it always will be

My blog has been neglected of late. I have not forgotten about it neither was it intentional for me to neglect it. I tried to post new sharings on the blog but each time I tried to type something, my brain seemed blank. It was as though I was suffering from some sort of mental blockage. I’ve only completed my second week as a lecturer but I feel as if I’m mentally drained. Yes, my friends, I’m mentally exhausted. The phrase “Thank God it’s Friday” means so much to me these days.
My workload is not suppose to be that bad, my working hours are way lesser compared to my previous work, yet I feel over worked. I am inexperience in what I’m doing. Being new in the teaching arena, I have to study and revise before I meet my students so that I will not teach them the wrong things. Sometimes, I have to think of different approaches in dealing with the classes because the characteristics of every class is different. My days are bright when the lesson is well, however such days are rare because I often make too much mistakes in almost everything that I do.
Wednesday was the worst of all the days. First, there was a two hour blackout in campus, then I received a call telling me that I was in charge of some “book review” competition. After that call, I was notified that I was also in charge of the college debating team with another lecturer and that we were to stay back once a week after office hours to train them. On the very same day, I got lock out of my own staff room and had to drive all the way to town to get another set of room keys from my friend because the office hours were over and there was no one else in campus who had the key. After that disaster, my car door handle broke also on the very same day. On my way back from that terrible day, I got caught in a three hour jam because some smart Malaysians felt that they should fill their petrol tanks before the price of petrol increased.
My experience on Wednesday was a perfect explanation to what the word “miserable” meant. Yet, I’m grateful that I survived. Not a single day has been smooth sailing for me and I foresee rough moments ahead, but I guess such experiences are bound to happen and perhaps it is through such experiences that I learn to become a tougher being. Another three months of rocky roads perhaps?

I am grateful for the many people who has shown love and has cared for me in this journey of life. I'm grateful for friends who call to check if I'm ok, to offer assistance when I'm in need. Life at the moment is not a leisure for me but yet I am grateful because I have lovely people around me, to help me through the difficult moments, to lighten my burden. I am struggling with work at the moment but I know that I'll be even more worst off if I did not know all these kind people.

I guess God has His own way of caring for me. He puts me through the difficult moments, yet He sends His angels to journey with me so that I may understand and appreciate life better. My one week of work has thought me about humility. I learned to acknowledge the goodness in people, to respect them for the being that they are. My journey is still long, but I see a purpose in my life.