To give or not to give

First, let me embed emo song of my century…..Billy Ocean “There’ll be sad songs (To make you cry)”

I have only one single RM50 note in my wallet. I feel embarrassed to dig out my coins. It seems kind of lame lah, a woman dressed in her Sunday’s best like me, giving coins. So, I struggled with it. Should I drop that last piece of RM50 into the offerings (you know lah, our church is a kena tanggung sendiri organisation so all of us will drop some money to contribute to the upkeep, the activities of the people, give to the needy etc etc or eermmm… kena extort likedat hehehe). I cannot tear a corner of the RM50 to drop in also because it is a crime to koyak the money.

I am sitting on the front spot because it is my duty to baca the AlKitab today. I imagine all eyes looking at this stingy woman who ignored the floating money bag, twice! So, in the end, I couldn’t be bothered because the homily from the priest sort of blew every single shred of my understanding of Christianity away. No, he did not ask me to disbelieve. He asked us to think and see differently.

I learnt that Jesus is not a David Copperfield. Jesus doesn’t keep producing rabbits after rabbits after rabbits from the hat. The symbolic multiplying bread and fish can be seen from another angle. And the priest managed to twist my heart to the extend that I know my decision is made. I could be the yeast or the over inflated, stale, tasteless bread.

When mass ended, Doc C came to talk to me about someone’s premature baby. He asked if I remember what is NEC? Yeap, I, chanlilian, the prem babies expert know that NEC is when the intestines of a premature baby sort of overlapped each other, get infected and cause the baby not to thrive well as she can’t tolerate foods. I also know what is sepsis and my Vincent never did get both. I told Doc C, “Yeah, NEC is the necro bla bla bla titis”. I asked if she is going to get BPD as well etc etc.

Well, that reminds me that I have an awfully lot of knowledge in me. So, I am not going to just shove them back and forget them like I have Alzheimer. Then, I told Doc C, “I have made up my mind. I am going to Singapore. As soon as I can armtwist them (them is some party I told Doc C) to pay for it.” Doc C knows I am an expert in arm twisting as he had seen how often I arm twisted even his hospital Medical Sup. Doc C too was a ‘single father’ for sometime when his wife went overseas to study. He is my children’s doctor, an expert in kids. So, the best person to share this is with him. If he doesn’t see anything weird about me, going away to study, then, who can tell me otherwise?

Of course, I am lucky that I have someone else to teach me all the lubang-lubang and encourage me 101% percent while reminding me to leave it to God. Or else I probably won’t get to make the multiplication magic. So, yeah, I didn’t give my last RM50 note because I know the money is irrelevant. I need it more (just in case, the mata stopped me on my way home) than the church who is probably very rich already. My effort is much more needed and they better say yes to me. Otherwise, I am going to take Jesus’s 2,000 years old hard like rock bread and whack someone for failing to understand what multiplication is.

And it is not easy to give. But I guess I can give it a shot. Oi, Singkahpoleans, how much standard rentals ah?