On a cool Saturday morning, 26 residents of Kwong Wai Shiu Hospital lined up in two rows at the hospital lobby. Greyed, wrinkled, and physically challenged, they sat in their wheel-chairs, waiting for a volunteer to bring them for a rare lunch outing.
More than 30 volunteers arrived – a resounding attendance from my relatively small, loyal fan-base. We randomly assigned ourselves to an available resident. I got myself a frail, quiet old man, deaf in the left ear, a voice so soft I could feel my earlobe touching his face while trying to hear him speak.
A bit like myself, I thought.
My new buddy, Sek Bee, called me “ah-boy”. I told him my Chinese name and said, “you can continue to call me ah-boy”. He cracked a smile so faint, I was glad my eyes were still working.
In a long, winding file, we wheeled our new friends across the road to the bustling market-place. Sek Bee sat quietly, head slightly drooped. I watched my peers around me, sincere, diligent, full of youthful energy, happy. The residents looked happy too, and a few ended up with large bags of longans and mangosteens. Sek Bee clenched a five-dollar note safely in his wrinkled palm.
Lunchtime, and Sek Bee whispered “Century Egg Porridge” and “Kopi Kau” (thick coffee). Elaine took a break from her marshalling duties, and helped to feed my buddy like a baby, spoon by spoon. Another resident at our table wanted noodles, but needed help as his buddy wasn’t good with chopsticks. So Elaine went over to the opposite side of the table and began feeding the other guy.
Elaine left the quiet Sek Bee for the other guy. The quiet Sek Bee watched. The quiet Sek Bee let out a huge bellow:
“YOU COME BACK HERE!!!”
The quiet Sek Bee. Quiet, but surprisingly jealous and amusingly human. He would later confess, with his trademark wry smile, that he could feed himself without assistance.
The day ended with the elated Hospital supervisor celebrating a very successful outing, topped with a delicious round of cupcakes from a very kind couple, Miranda & Sami. There were happy faces all around. The old were smiling and clapping, the young were energised by a good cause.
Are we any different at all?
The old would return to the confines of a hospital ward. We, the young, able, and complacent, would return to the confines of the daily grind. Just like the residents, we need someone to touch us, feed us, love us, even if just for a couple of hours.
On a cool Saturday morning, the old man’s bellow sounded as sweet and joyous as a baby’s laughter.