Grace Across Time & Space.

10-10-25

A loose screw that causes great distress.

Two days ago a screw from my brace (Knee-Ankle-Foot Orthotics) came loose. I didn’t realise it till the metal bars came apart & grazed my skin.

I panicked. Without the brace, walking is painful. I panicked because my brace was customised overseas. The company that handled my case has since changed hands. Any replacement parts if they still exist will take time to source & order.

Meanwhile, a trip downstairs to retrace my steps & see if I could locate the lost screw was urgently needed.

But I couldn’t do so with a broken brace.

In my anxiety, a memory from years ago of an unkempt but cheerful man outside the Ganesh temple along Keong Siak Road floated up in my mind like a movie.

Sri Layan Sithi Vinayagar Temple. (Keong Siak Rd, Singapore)

Even though the man didn’t look like he was all there, he had the sense to hold up his oversized pants by passing a rafia string through the belt loops around his waist.

Palms together, the homeless looking person would greet just about anyone passing by or entering the temple dedicated to Ganesh, the elephant-headed deity of Wisdom & Resourcefulness.

Inspired by the memory of his resourcefulness, I lost my fear. As calm descended, a space in me opened up to see if cable ties could hold up my brace.

And the ties worked!

With my brace secured by these plastic wonders, I painlessly & confidently sallied forth & found the missing screw lying on the walkway down my block.

I now have 2 pieces of cable ties in my wallet, just in case. And it humbles me deeply to see that a vagabond is also a channel of divine guidance. 🙏

The memory of the vagabond’s resourcefulness led me to these plastic miracles.

Once Ganesh encountered a snake about to strike him. He picked it up & turned the snake into a belt by tying it around his waist, turning an adversary into an accessory. 😄

Thankful Thursday: To Blend or To Trend?

14-8-25

Putting my best foot forward for my first ever black & white photograph in my adult life by Mr Do Huu Phuoc.

To wish for what one cannot change or become is suffering indeed.

In my youth, I admired my peers for being able to prance about in their heels and slingbacks, and spin gracefully on their ankles to express joy.

In my youth I often placed my legs one against the other hoping they would look more normal. (June 2000, Beijing, China)

These were devices of discomfort and shame for a young girl who badly wanted to look and walk like normal people.

So instead of being grateful for the grounding support of my metal brace & laced up boots, I resented them for being constant reminders of my physical impairment.

As soon as I stopped fighting the brace at 60, the burden of hiding my deformity since I was 7 lifted .

Thankfully in the past couple of years, a series of pain episodes have shown me “resistance is futile,” especially at my age.

So early this year at the physiotherapist’s office, I cuddled & prayed over the plaster mold of my leg she made before sending it out to the brace maker.

Blessing my mold before it was sent to the brace maker in USA.

I even apologised to the likes of the boots I rejected in my youth. In my desperate attempts to blend, I was blind to the possibility of starting what could have been a trend.

Last month at Red Wing, as the lace of my boots tightened, and the leather sides aligned to meet my ankle, I felt a shift from dread to peace.

It was like coming home to myself. No more wishing to be someone else, no more apologising for my limp & no more fear of rejection.

As I thought about how wonderful it would be if someone could capture my moment of acceptance, a photographer happened to drop by.

I wish for someone to document my acceptance moment & a photographer decided to drop by the shoe shop I was in. 🙏

Even though he felt the lighting was not ideal for the photograph he had in mind, he would still like to take some pictures to help me remember.

Mr Do Huu Phuoc did not ask me to lose my cane or stand in a particular way. He photographed me when I was feeling my best.

I gladly accepted his offer. And this time for my first black & white shot of my adult life & for the first time in my whole life, I made zero effort to hide my leg, but happily put my best foot forward. 😄

A Father’s Influence 4-8-25

My Dad would have been 87 today.

In his lifetime he took on all sorts of work to make ends meet. He welded, sold coconut juice, ran stalls , picked fruits, and traded in discarded items. No job was too lowly for the man on his trusty Vespa.

Being of limited education he had to endure all kinds of job instability. Not wanting to cause alarm or appear incapable, he kept his hardship to himself.

My Dad in his youth wearing a borrowed uniform. When he was still a baby, his Dad passed away. Perhaps donning a uniform was my Dad’s subconscious aspiration for some kind of security in his growing up years.

There was even once he spent days on the beach during working hours so that we wouldn’t know he had lost his job.

Growing up, my dad’s explosive rage & harsh words hurt me. Yet he was also the one who modelled sustained silent reading, and piqued my interest in national geographic, movies, art, music & non-chinese foods.

This man who chain smoked to the detriment of his own lungs also picked herbs and killed & cooked wildgame to feed me in hope of restoring my leg.

One day I gathered the courage to tell him I didn’t mind limping so he didn’t have to kill anything anymore. That was the end of my dad’s dabbling with innocent lives to mend mine.

My dad would have been 87 years old today. And as I age, I draw strength from his willingness to accept all things, so that nothing can cause us to lose our footing. 🪷🙏

My Dad always smiles for the camera. In all my dreams my Dad is always smiling. I hope wherever he is, he lacks nothing.

远方的乡愁 (Homesickness)

13 March 2025

How could you miss a place you hadn’t visited? I could. Through my grandmother.

My cat, Oliver, on map of Kinmen Island.

My grandmother was born in city of Houpu on Kinmen Island in 1914. It was 3 years after the fall of the Ching Dynasty and the start of World War 1.

When she was 7 years old, turbulent times forced her to leave Kinmen for Singapore. She never set foot on her birth place nor saw her parents ever again.

This yearning for Kinmen would manifest in the constant repetition of her family name, her language group, her city of birth, and in her cooking & aesthetics.

In 2019, when I arrived in Kinmen for the first time and saw her family name written in gold characters, I felt a surge of awe! So this is the character that my grandma was so concerned about throughout her whole life!

An ancestral shrine bearing the family name of my grandmother.

She taught me how her family name, 翁 “ongg” should be pronounced using the first tone in Kinmen language. It was not to be mistaken for 王 “ong” which was using the second tone.

My grandmother was the only person I know who had nostalgic feelings for words.

When I walked the lanes of her birth place, I felt a sense of homecoming & reunion on her behalf. The red lanterns hanging about bearing the city’s name “后浦” may appear ordinary to the locals & tourists. But for me who had heard my grandmother speak it for years, I finally understood 后浦 is real, and not a figment of an old woman’s imagination.

Houpu, my grandmother’s beloved city of birth.

My grandma could have passed by & even touched this ancient tree in her birth city.

Outside a temple where an ancient banyan tree of more than a 100 years old stood, I touched its trunk reverently. My grandmother could have touched the same tree too.

Apart from words, my grandmother also kept Kinmen alive through her cooking. Her spring rolls, longevity noodles面线, glutinous rice油饭, leek 大蒜& yam dishes were quintessentially Kinmenese.

Strands of noodles swaying in the Kinmen breeze & sun taught me why my grandmother was ever so joyful when she cooked bowls of “mee sua” for us. The ever delicate longevity noodles was probably one of her few tangible links to memories of her Kinmen home.

My grandma always cooked “Mee Sua” or longevity noodles with joy.

In the news the narratives surrounding Kinmen Island tend to focus on geopolitical issues & what Kinmen can offer in terms of enjoyment & entertainment. But for folks like me, this little island has done more than its share of giving, sheltering & loving. It now deserves to be revered, cherished & protected.

I’m honoured to have visited this magical island that my grandmother pined for till her demise. I wish Kinmen everlasting peace & prosperity for the benefit of everyone, regardless of their beliefs.

The Way of the Chiku Tree

29 January 2025

The Chiku Tree is all decked up with red banner & pineapple hangings on Chinese New Year of the Snake. (29-1-25)

The wind rose and sent the tree branches dancing as I approached the temple on the morning of Chinese New Year.

I stood on the steps to savour the rustling of leaves & greeted the Chiku Tree. Planted by my dad when we were kids, this tree being has been tended to by kinsmen, kinswomen & friends with rudimentary plant knowledge.

Over the years my brother has picked up our dad’s interest in cultivating Desert Roses. When a plant needs healing, he hangs it on the Chiku Tree to let it rest.

Each season the Chiku Tree brings forth sweet & succulent fruits that feed birds and are given freely to whoever asks.

I arrived just in time to see my Mom picking up a Pineapple decoration which the Wind had sent her from the Chiku Tree. Pineapples are symbols of abundance among ethnic Chinese.

Quietly, she bears witness to all temple festivities, performances & feasts. Banquet cooks & street opera singers catch their breaths under her loving auspices. Our late temple cats filed their nails on her trunks.

With each passing year, my admiration for the Chiku Tree grows. She brings sweetness, provides refuge & inspires trust with minimum fuss.

How auspicious it will be, if we could age The Way of the Chiku Tree! 😄🙏

With my Mom under the Chiku Tree on the first day of Chinese New Year.

Christmas Eve Question

24-12-24

Presenting Christmas log cake to Asher, the shelter cat at Metta Cats & Dogs Sanctuary. (22-12-24)

About 20 Christmas Eves ago, I passed by 4 dogs sheltering under a vacated apartment block. There had been an on off drizzle much like today.

Grateful that I didn’t hesitate to help animals & share my interest with students when I was able to move without a walking aid. (Nanyang Girls’ High School, 2004)

I went home, put down my stuff & went out again to the supermarket to get dog food and aluminium trays in preparation to feed them.

My old flat at Blk 3 Teban Gardens Road (1999-2012)

By the time I got to the abandoned block, I couldn’t find the dogs.

A sense of disappointment mixed with deepening unease crept up on me as I surveyed the deserted neighbourhood in the failing light.

At that moment of uncertainty, a voice called out to me,”Miss Ong, what are you doing here?”

I turned around. Two boys had seemed to materialise from nowhere. They introduced themselves as students from one of the schools I had worked in.

The boys who helped me complete my dog feeding mission told me they came from St Joseph’s Institution.

When I told them about my failed feeding attempt, they took over the trays of dog food and completed my mission.

8 years after that Christmas Eve encounter, I would be relocated to a new flat that sits on the land where I fed the homeless dogs.

View from my current flat. (Sunrise on 10-12-24)

And each Christmas Eve especially on a cool evening like this, I will hear the Angels loud & clear: “Miss Ong, what are you doing here?” 🙏

Since that Christmas Eve encounter, and aided by friends, my animal helping work has extended beyond Singapore. (Rocky & Lakshmi, Nepal 2024)

“Miss Ong, what are you doing here?” Asked the Angels loud & clear. (Boudha Stupa 2024)

Soaring Sunday

27-10-24

This morning before it got too hot, we headed to the Jurong Lake to practise walking in my new boots.

To motivate me, my friend brought coffee and yutiao (fried dough fritters) from Bt Panjang market.

The sturdy boardwalk supported our feet as we strolled. Below us the green water stretched on endlessly. Above us, white wispy clouds spread across the blue sky like tracks left behind by wind horses.

We glanced guiltily at joggers passing by before taking a bite of the deep fried delight of our childhood. 😄

As we savoured our simple breakfast, we were treated to a display of aerial prowess by the brief appearance of, I believed to be either a white bellied sea eagle or a brahminy kite.

The wingspan was spectacular to behold, and as if telling me, “Be not dismayed you earth bound creature of flawed feet. Your wings are in your mind.”

Here’s wishing all a calming close to October and light footed grace to November. 🙏

Eat My Heart Out! My friend said next visit we’ll bring table mats and have a banquet of ordibary food.

Tender Thursday: Acceptance

11-7-24

Between the ages of 7 & 15, a big portion of my dad’s pay went to getting my surgical shoes & aluminium calipers.

I contracted childhood poliomyelitis when I was 10 months old. It left me with a permanent limp on my left leg.

Money was tight, but not once did he complain about how I was depleting resources.

When it was time to be in school & mix with clean limbed kids, my dad reminded me that because I walked differently from them, I would never be able to match their speed. Therefore I had to accept my slowness & not compare myself with others.

My Primary One class photo under the Acacia Tree where I spent many happy hours watching my friends play.

He was a pragmatic parent who knew kids at that age crave to belong. Recess time games could be cruel on a child with limited mobility.

When I got older, he also specified that I had to earn my keep by developing real skills & not expect others to foot my bills. I guess it was his clumsy way of telling me not to expect a man to take care of me.

I took my dad’s advice seriously and studied to become a teacher of English.

Although I didn’t like what my dad said at that time, his words have kept me from a lifetime of feeling sorry for myself.

Customised shoes & insoles to ease the strain of imbalance gait.

Although I couldn’t run around like my friends, I became a keen observor of body language by watching their playground antics, triumphs & defeats.

Although I can’t keep pace with many activities these days, there is no panic.

My dad might have known early on that regardless of what he could give me, I still had to face the world by myself & walk my own path.

So he taught me acceptance, which is the beginning to tenderness & freedom from attributing blame or seeking compensation.

Frida Wannabe

21-6-24 (Summer Solstice)

In my world, there can never be too much sweetness or too many flowers.

I share two traits with Mexican painter, Frida Kahlo. We both contracted childhood polio and we both hated our affected legs. Frida covered her right leg by wearing long skirts, while I cover my left leg by wearing flowers.

Frida painted flowers so that they would not die. I wear flowers because they help me face life.

Whether to live just for a day or a week, Flowers remind me to bloom my best. Whether admired or mocked, Flowers say we gotta look fabulous!

Although her paintings were not exhibited, her energies were carried in the richness of her colours.

At the lotus shaped Art Science Museum, my 2 companions in their Sweet Seventies put me on a wheel chair and rolled me around to see Frida’s life. 😄🙏

My Sweet Seniors who may have seen it all, but everything is new to them.

May the thought of this senior Frida Wannabe and her friends chortling away while awashed in every Frida colour imaginable, bring a smile to bloom like a flower on you.

Happy Summer Solstice to All Sentient Beings. 🙏

Fathers’ Presence

16-6-24 (Father’s Day)

Around my 60th birthday I dreamt of my dad. In the dream he was working in a garden when I approached him. I showed him a dog I was cradling in my arms. He smiled approvingly.

Dad and me in my 30s at Westlake Restaurant in Farrer Rd.

In my childhood my dad taught me to pick up chicks, ducklings and rabbits gently so as not to hurt them. My maternal grandfather taught me to hold my fountain pen steadily & with just enough pressure when I’m writing to protect the nib.

With Shoya in early 2000s at our old home.

As I get older, these childhood experiences guide me to handle what I love, be it an object or a living being, with a light touch, so that I don’t spoil them & they don’t possess me.

In the dream it started to drizzle and the sky was darkening. I got into my dad’s truck so he could send me home. The dog in my arm started to whimper when the truck rumbled.

We decided it was best that I walked. As I started walking, dogs from all corners starting appearing & wagging their tails at me.

I turned around excitedly to look back at my dad to check if he had seen them too.

He nodded to show he did. Then he waved me onwards like he used to whenever I visited & it was time to leave. Only this time he wasn’t waving me towards the elevator, but onto a brightly lighted gravel path.