You Is My Friend


I was roaming through my cabinet when I stumbled upon my old “treasure chest”. It is quite childish but like me, I supposed everyone has a “treasure chest”. Whether it is literally a box, an album of favorite photographs, or more modern, a cache of personal blogs. My “treasure chest” is a large biscuit can with its tin already rusting with age. It is circular and heavy. Then I opened the tight lead of the can, bang the tin shouted, and out popped my letters.

A couple of tiny insects (I think it’s called silverfish) were feasting on the folds of the letters and cards. I brushed them off. And how in heaven did they get in there anyway? LOL! Well, the letters were from some friends, classmates, and remembered ones from childhood to teen days, or from elementary to high school.

Seeing the cards made me smile. Many of them were actually handmade – a bond paper folded in two and decorated with colored art papers or Crayola sketches. I browsed through them and my heart melted with each memory. One particular message caught my attention. It said “You is my friend”. A bigger smile, or a silent laugh, crossed my lips. It was for two reasons.  Firstly, the sincerity of the line really touched me. And on top of that (sorry friend!), it was a very bad English. LOL!



That card, particularly a Valentine’s card, was made by a friend in fourth grade. There was only a single heart in the cover, created out of a red paper cut and glued on it. The heart was wrinkled and seemed to dance; the unevenness of pasting it must have done the effect.  Well, a thought suddenly crossed my mind…

 When we were young, we see things in simple ways. We do things the simplest way. And we delight in simple things…

Give a child a hundred worth bill and off he goes to buy toys or chocolates or whatever makes him very happy. Give the same to an old man, and for a long time, he would ponder on what to do with it. It may not be enough…

Hurt a child, and later, he will forget and play with you again. Hurt an old man, and later, he is still in hurt. He may not forget it…

Then walk and talk with a child, and time will fly, you will be overjoyed. Then walk and talk with an old man, and time will crawl, you will be depressed and burdened with realizations…

It is a sad truth… That growing older and wiser does not make us a happier man…

I looked at the card again and my point finger traced the heart. It may be simple, but like they say, “It’s the thought that counts”.

Maybe, a child only looks at the moment, while an old man looks at the future, or for others, the past.

Gently, I folded the card and returned the letters inside the box. I closed the cabinet.

(P.S. I am not able to capture an image of that message. It is too difficult; the whole content gets included. LOL!)



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2 comments:

  1. My "treasure chest" is a big paper box in a cabinet in my room although not all is in it.. there's a lot of stuff lying around in my "Private" section in my PC...

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