26-6-23
A young girl in my tuition class spoke about how she would want nothing more than her pair of pet parrots to be returned to her if she could wish for any birthday present. She was responding to an oral exam prompt we were practising for mid year.
Last week I handed her a parrot pin given by a former student who is completing her oceanography studies in Australia.
When I told the recipient that the pin was given by a brave young woman, and how it might serve as a reminder of how well she had articulated her thoughts, she immediately attached the parrot pin onto her fabric pencil case.
This week she came to class with print outs of her parrots playing & napping when they were with her.
She beamed proudly when I took an interest in the hastily cut pictures of her lost companions.
She must have waited for some time to share her sadness without the fear of being called childish or a cry baby.
Occasionally in the midst of practising language skills, a hidden grief or suppressed sorrow pops up, and the teacher gets the chance to become the comforter.
In letting a child express sadness without rushing in to help her “feel better,” she gets to process her loss and maybe learn to live with it in time to come. It’s only when we know how to live with the imperfections of life then we’re in a position to recognise its magnificence.
Lisa Ong 