I returned to my secondary school again today, asking if there's any vacancy after much contemplation (I don't want to wake up at 5am again, to climb stairs and shout at rebellious adolescences just to earn a few hundreds ringgit). Unfortunately, there isn't any for me at the moment as all the slots are filled up by other post-STPM students. Oh well, guess I have to go back to job-hunting in tuition centres or education advisor. I'm actually quite interested in working with education advisor, recalling how I once clung on them so tightly before my college days and I want to know more about universities around the world... I have not go for any interview for either institutions tho... procrastinate much. :/
Anyway, back to the topic of going back to school, I ended up chatting with many teachers instead. Mostly were teachers who attend the same church as me. We haven't had much chance talking in the church, owing to my bad habit of slipping away immediately after services (you have no idea how congested the traffic of the whole city is every Sunday after church).
A teacher whom I respected very much (helped to build a strong foundation in my maths) was telling me about her relative. She was an admission officer of a university in NZ, in her 30s, a very enthusiastic and charitable lady, a very devoted Christian. She's not married but enjoyed single-hood in serving the Lord. She used to come back to Sarawak once in a while to visit her family. Just last year, she came back and brought her mom to overseas for holiday. They enjoyed quality time with the family and returned to Malaysia. At the departure hall, she bid her mother goodbye, again and again. It was unusual for her to act like that. February, it was a cool, windy night. After dinner, her house mate and her decided to go for a long walk around the neighbourhood. It was, again, another unusual act. They shared stories and experiences along the way, enjoyed each other's company. And when they were about to sleep that night, she kept telling her house mate "goodbye!" 22 February, lunchtime, her mother back in Sarawak received the news of 6.3-magnitude earthquake hitting NZ's second-largest city. Her heart skipped a beat, it was the city her daughter was in. She lost her.
They went through her stuffs after the cremation. She had very little in her bank account even after years of work, she didn't spend much but has been consistently offering her money to help others. What was amazing was they found a card slipped in one of her books. It was addressed to her mom... "Don't worry, I am doing very good now. Cling on to God tightly in whatever you do. We will meet again very soon."
Does a person really knows when he is going to die? I've heard many stories of people signalling others with unusual acts about their departure, but is it really true that they have that sense or was it just eerily pure coincidence? No matter what, we know where that lady is heading. Instead of weeping for her, we should be rejoicing! What a great comfort that we have for believing in the Lord! :)
Life is full of uncertainties. To leave at any time, any where, without regrets is to live each day with a purpose, to breathe each breath with gladness.