The growing years

Isn't it funny that whenever we reminisce about those bygone years - our childhood, adolescence (and school years), young adulthood - more often than not (at least for me) we are enveloped by a comforting glow, fuelled by wonderful memories?

Growing up was far from easy. We were not exactly poor but with 10 children, my father and mother struggled to feed, clothe and educate us. The fact that Papa loved his drink (in his case, stout) meant that there was even less money for the basics. That he sometimes was a positive boor was not easy either although he did mellow with age.

My sister and I (at the age of 13 and 12, respectively), tutored a local boy - she in maths and I in English for $15 each a month. A fortune for a child in those days.

We saved our money for LPs and singles, for stockings (for special times like Christmas and Easter) etc.

Mum must have been a magician in one of her past lives because she would conjure up two pretty dresses for each of her five daughters every year, again for Christmas and Easter. Apart from those tailored frocks, we had a few home sewn smocks and basics. No such thing then as pretty knickers from the store for us.

She was also a sorceress in the kitchen, whipping up the most amazing curries, stews etc with the most meagre ingredients.

We wore hand-me-downs, we used everything until they were literally in tatters (when all the girls in school started carrying those fancy canvas school bags, I lugged around my little battered school case that was so out of date and ugly).

We did not have family getaways, regular outings to the cinema or even a day trip to the city. We lived on the east coast of Singapore. I distinctly remember my very first trip (as a teenager) to Orchard Road, the heart of the premier shopping and tourist district. It was like visiting another country!!!

Watching television was the highlight of our lives. The whole lot of us would gather around the TV (children sitting on the floor) watching Candid Camera, Get Smart, the Ed Sullivan Show, I Dream of Jeannie, Mr Ed the Talking Horse, Lost in Space, Star Trek (woohoo)....

Growing up with very little money was not fun. I would like to think that I was never ashamed of being close to poor but I do remember that awful feeling in my gut as I watched my school mates, many of whom came from well-to-do families, spend money like there was no tomorrow.

However, today, when we talk about those old days, we remember all the great things that we had but never quite realised.  Never feeling lonely, always having a play mate (not only to play but to fight with!!), always appreciating every treat, no matter how small - a feed of great Hokkien-style noodles when Papa had his pay, mugs of Ovaltine or Milo, the Avon body talcs and colognes that my Aunty Sybil never failed to give us at Christmas time, the ang-pows we collected at Chinese New Year (the little red envelopes contained sometimes $2 and if we were really lucky, $10).

I could go on and on but I won't. What I will say is, if I had a chance to live my life all over again, I would not ask for anything different.