The Guilt and The Soft Side

Everybody has a “soft” side. How cold-blooded a person can be, how stiff and straight a person can be or how hard-hearted a person can be, I still believe in the soft side of each individual. I have no definition in mind now to actually define “soft” side. It can be anything ranging from an issue you feel, think, empathize or sympathize about. Today, I have two ordinary stories to tell. One story on my personal cruel experience, and another on my friend’s experience.

Story 1: My cruel experience

A simple story to tell about my experience, which was dated back when I was in Dalian, China doing my overseas industrial attachment.

One fine day over the weekend, I was roaming round the busiest town of Dalian city with my mate. Shopping had been a daily chore to us back there, so the two of us had decided to plain enjoy the busy street along with the nice cool weather. As we were starting to mesmerize in the sweet scent and the scenic plot, my leg was jammed within the arms of a little boy. I was dumbfounded by the method, and soon regained my composure. I struggled my way out and had no mercy upon how. What the boy wanted was for us to buy at least a stalk of rose which only cost 5yuan (S$1).

The struggle went on, yet the boy didn’t give up. Only after much struggle, only when he got hold of my mate’s muffler, and only when I started to realize the muffler was tearing into two, I gave in. Together, we bought two stalks of rose and continued our walk. So much effort put in to get two chaps, loaded with hundreds, to buy some roses. What the boy wanted was for us to buy at least a stalk of rose which only cost 5yuan (S$1).

On a return trip, after a movie at one theater house nearby, we were caught up again. Although it was getting dark, the persistence and determination remained strong. This time round was a little girl. She rushed straight into my mate and grabbed her by her jeans with all her might. Nothing could be done, even when we resisted. She just didn’t give up. What the girl wanted was for us to buy at least a stalk of rose which only cost 5yuan (S$1).

We battled. Physically and verbally. She didn’t give up, we didn’t give in. And the struggle went on for a while. Only when the little girl realized how cruel we might be, only when the little girl realized we had dragged her almost onto the two-lane carriageway, and only when the little girl realized her words, her tears and her effort were of no use to get two chaps, loaded with hundreds, to buy some roses again. She gave up. The last sentence I heard from her was simply (in Chinese), “You bought roses from him (the little boy), why not from me?” The last sight of her was – she wiped away her falling tears, turned around and walked away. Tears were rolling still, when she hung the bucket of roses on one hand and with another clinging onto some strangers to buy her roses. What the girl wanted was for us to buy at least a stalk of rose which only cost 5yuan (S$1).


-it happens on the street opposite this building.

Since then, the struggles, the persuasive words, the cries, and especially the last sentence of that little girl still echo in my mind. I can visualize that whole situation as if it just happened yesterday. I was indeed cruel. I could have bought it. I could have bought it. There was no need for a struggle. It was one buck to me, not even enough for a chicken rice meal or a meepok dry. Sometimes I can’t stop thinking. Perhaps, what’s done is done. Neither can I rectify the whole issue nor can I reach the little girl again. And I’m very guilty and these experience will stay haunting me.

Since then, whenever I walked passed one with a bowl or one with tissues, that incident would reappear in mind and I would not hesitate to drop a penny or two or buy some tissues.

Story 2: A friend’s experience

It happened to her at some point in life in the past. It was in one of Singapore’s busiest underpass, connecting orchard mrt to many different parts/buildings of orchard road. There was an old lady, physically disabled. Her scent was certainly unpleasant. She was praying for enough pennies to buy herself a proper meal. No one seemed to care at that moment. And out of desperation, she decided to start approaching strangers instead.

Many were irritated. Some were really annoyed. The more people she approached, the more people tried to avoid. Perhaps it was really “peak” hour. Everybody seemed to be in a rush. No one seemed to care. Nothing good and kind happened until she met my kind friend. After much words of persuasion, the intention was pretty clear, and what caught my friend’s attention was, “…please! I’m really hungry and I just wanted enough money for a proper meal….” Without further ado, a ten dollars’ note was passed, and he rushed away for a running-late-meeting. Despite her physical disability, the old lady hurried to my friend and whispered, “God bless your kind soul.”

Perhaps, the money to the little boy will end up in the hands of the master. Perhaps, the old lady wanted the money for another cause. Whatever it is or may be, does it really matters? There's a clich'e saying that goes, "Is the thought that counts." It's like buying a gift for a person's birthday, you don't care much regarding how he uses/treats your gift. It's your thoughts that count. Perhaps, we can apply this to the above situations, and stop thinking where it will land. What goes around, will come back to you one day.