the ice-cream lesson

I was at the playground downstairs doing my quiet time when three kids came to me asking if I wanted to buy ice-cream. Apparently, these siblings – a 15 year-old boy, a 12 year-old girl and a 9 year-old boy – had been knocking door-to-door to sell small boxes of ice-cream the whole night till there’s only one left in the styrofoam container. They asked if I wanted to clear it so they could go home.

At first I agreed. Then I realised I had used my last few dollars to eat kway chap with Debbie. They looked rather disappointed but thanked me politely anyway.

I walked away from the playground and decided to take a detour to nearby ATM. I thought they might’ve been gone by the time I went back but thankfully they were still there. The youngest boy was the first one to notice me walking back. He stood up from the swing and looked at me with his mouth open (yes, he looked blur and cute). I asked him if the last box was still available and he nodded quite enthusiastically.

As I took the last box, I began talking to the three musketeers while they packed up their container, dry ice and all those stuff.

Do you guys do this every night, I asked. Yes, they do this every night during holiday and every weekend during school terms. Why? Because they need the extra money for school fees and daily expenses.

Would you have time to study, I continued. Yes, parents make sure they’d still study hard. But they don’t have spare time to play with friends so they’d play among themselves.

They asked if I stayed around here. I said yes and asked them back where they lived. AMK, apparently. Why don’t they sell ice-cream there? AMK residents not only wouldn’t buy from them, they’d holler at the three for bothering them (Yes, you AMK peeps, go and reflect, haha!).

Don’t you guys get this treatment from people in Serangoon as well, I asked. Yes, they said, there were people who’d slam the door in their faces even before they finished speaking. But there were also people who’d buy from them. And they keep moving from cluster to cluster so that they wouldn’t ‘bother’ the same residents again and again.

Anyways, I wouldn’t post the rest of our convo up here but it’s safe to say it was the highlight of my day.

What do I feel towards them? Pity? No! Not at all! I think to pity them would be patronising at best, insulting at worst. If anything, I feel a sense of admiration towards these industrious, resourceful little people. And I think when life gives them a chance for better opportunities, they would be gutsy and diligent enough to reach out for it. I hope! Haha! I can only pray.

On top of that, it also reminded me of how rich I am. Yes, I don’t have a car or even a house of my own but I AM rich. And so are all of YOU reading this. We only feel ‘poor’ when we compare ourselves to people who have more than we do. We feel poor when we focus on what we don’t have instead of what we have

The truth is half the world live on less than $2 each day. The truth is, if you’ve had both lunch and dinner today, you’re in the top 10% richest people in the world. This is not to make you feel guilty for having more. This is just to give us all some prespective – that we actually have more than enough.

So please don’t ever tell me you’re broke. You don’t need to have more. You just need to better manage your finances. Or learn what it means to be contented. Or if you really need more, chanel those whining/ranting energy into selling ice-cream. It might really give us some perspective for real.

I’m blessed to bless others.
I’m loved and called to love.
I’m the hands and feet of Jesus.

“We’re the generation. We can’t afford to wait. The future started yesterday, and we’re already late.” – John Legend

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