Singapore-based nephew Kaikai and I were talking about remembering people and events from earlier days.
This unearthed one memory about a girl in my Primary One class (so we were aged six) at the Chinese stream school where my mother had sent me while waiting for my English stream convent school place to come up a year later.
I was bullied at the Chinese school by a gang of three girls, one of whom was the daughter of the school principal (therefore a useful friend to have). One of the things they did to me was to make me push them sitting in the three-seater wooden bench swing in the school yard until my palms developed blisters.
One day, I came back to the classroom after the break to find my colouring book missing from my school bag. I was very upset and cried for a long time, more from the fact that people could do such a hurtful thing than from the loss of a colouring book.
The following week, this girl in my class (I think her name was Tan Poh Choo) gave me a new one as a replacement. She and I were not even that chummy with each other (I was a loner even at that age), so it was particularly touching that she should've done it, especially when she was only six.
I left the following year because my space at the convent school had come up, so I lost touch with that kind girl.
Fast forward to my teens.
I was doing my duty at the wake of my mother's uncle when this girl turned up with her family to pay her respects. She turned out to be distantly related to him. I recognised her as the Tan Poh Choo who'd been so kind to me, so I got hold of her telephone number from a relative and invited her out for some performance at the National Theatre, then went for a milk shake afterwards.
It was a bit of a damp squib, this attempt at renewing my relationship with a girl who'd been kind to me some years back. She'd carried on in the Chinese stream, where Mandarin was the teaching medium for all the subjects, whilst I'd gone on to an English stream school with English as the teaching medium. We couldn't really communicate satisfactorily enough, language-wise, so after a fairly awkward milk shake, much of which was consumed in silence, we went home, and never got in touch after that.
I've heard of people who'd been in a relationship in their teens and gone on to marry someone else, then getting back together in later life but becoming disappointed at the renewed relationship, as they and their separate lives in the interim had changed. Some memories are perhaps better left frozen.
I wonder where Tan Poh Choo is now, and if she remembers having done that kind act to a distraught classmate in Primary One?
(Singapore, 1960 and 1968(?)/9(?))