Getting to know work intimately - Age 7

Just recently, my lecturer from one of my psychology class, requested each of us to write a 7 - 10 pages assignment of our personal career biography. It was then in mulling over when my work life, that realization hit me. I am sure my classmates would have written that their career began in their 20s but for me, the truth is, I began partially fending for myself at the age of 7. Impossible, you say? Let me elaborate.

When a child begins primary school, it is normal for parents to give the child an allowance. For some it may be a weekly, or a monthly allowance, depending on the level of trust and ability of the child to understand how to budget and manage the money. Yes, I too received an allowance but alas' what I received was worse than a shoestring budget. How so?

I was given 10sen per day and since school was from Monday to Friday only, I received a total of 50sen weekly. A bowl of noodles in mid 1960s cost 5sen and a glass of cordial the same amount. Since I lived 2km away from school, if I took public transport, the bus fare would be 5sen per trip.

From what I understood then and even more so now, the message that my foster mother was saying to me was " If you want to eat and drink, you'll have walk to school and vice-versa." Not a fantastic way to be introduced to school, right? If we had been poor, I guess that I could accept this sad state of affairs.

Yet, we lived in a 2500sq ft bungalow which sits on 5000 sq ft of land. My brothers, save for one, whom my foster mother did not particularly love, they received more than adequate allowance and if they ran short, mother would hand over more, without a grumble. I was never so lucky.

Even bringing home the message that it was time to pay the "pittance" of school fees for me resulted in grumbles, mumbles about how much money she was spending on me and I should be so eternally grateful to her till death do us part! If her mood was running a tat' foul, then I would be given a long tirade about how she was working herself to death to feed, clothe and educate me.

Oh yes, must not forget to add this. My foster mother, who was educated in a Catholic Convent School must sincerely have believed that Jesus' miracle of the 2 loaves and 5 fishes would somehow repeat itself with my allowance. How?

She would buy all the text books and exercise books as stated in the book list. Every beginning of the year, I would receive my "ration" of 6 pencils, an eraser, a sharpener, a short ruler, a long ruler and a pencil case to hold everything.

So, what would happen, if I needed, say, an additional exercise book or extra stationeries? Answer - it would have to come out from my allowance. Truly, she believed that faith would cause God to send a miracle like what Jesus performed for the 5000 who gathered to listen to Him at Capernaum, some 2000 years ago!

Placed in such a financial dilemma - I really needed money. I was told that I could offer to wash the family car ( cleaning the interior and exterior of the car) once a week and be paid 50sen for the job. Other housework, such as washing the clothes, working as a kitchen assistant for the family meals, sweeping, mopping, wiping windows, waxing the floors, sweeping the courtyard, etc) would not receive any remuneration because it was considered partial payment for my food and lodging. I was also allowed to help with marking of multiple choice assignments and examination papers ( my foster mother hated marking assignment and test papers) and be paid 10sen per batch of 40. Unfortunately, such marking jobs only came once a month and I needed more to just survive my days at school.

I believe that God is good. I say this because I believe that it is He who gave me the alertness and ideas to overcome this sad situation. I had no proper advice from a financial planner or expert on how to solve the money woes at this tender age. Woes that a child should never have to carry. Responsibility that actually belong to adults and here I was, at such a tender age - left to find survival solutions that even adults may have difficulty overcoming.

I often went to market with my foster mother ( very much like how a maid would follow her mistress to the market). On one occasion, I noticed that the Indian vegetable vendor sold "belimbing" fruits. Within the gardens of our home, there were 2 "belimbing" trees and because they were so well watered and fertilized by our gardening crazy neighbors ( the trees grew near the common fences ) the fruits were luscious. By the way, these "belimbing" fruit tree is not easy to grow to maturity and they are much sought after as ingredients for "sambal" by Malays and Indians.

In that a shot of daring courage ( I was quite a mouse in those days), I walked up to the vendor and asked if he would like a constant supply of the fruits and how much would he pay for such a supply. He said he would and the price would be 30 - 40sen per kilo depending on size and quality of the fruit. ( we used kati those days, but in conversion - it is about this price) He only wanted the fruit delivered on Saturday mornings. The deal was struck.

I went home and gingerly asked permission to harvest the fruits. Surprisingly, it was granted. And there began my first "business". Before money was my greatest need, now it became my greatest motivation. I got up by 6.45am every Saturday morning and armed with a stool, a ladder, plastic bags and a long wooden stick, I would face the two trees.

The "belimbing" trees have 2 seasons of fruit and each season could last about 1 month. I worked hard during those harvest months and one of my greatest joy would be to see bees hovering over the tiny white flowers - an indication that money would soon be mine.

How much did I bring in each Saturday during harvest season? Each Saturday, would see each of my tiny hands carrying a plastic bag with some 4 - 5 kilos of fruits and walking( and stopping every 5 - 6 steps) to the market situated 1km away. The average income per trip was 3 to 4 Ringgit - enough to sustain me with food and bus trips for at least 15days and leave some for other stuff as well.

This was my routine until I turned 12 years of age. By then, the money just wasn't enough for me. I wanted more as my needs had grown. But that is another story and another chapter in my life.

Looking back, I learned that resourcefulness, opportunity, courage and initiative does go a long way on one's journey out of the rut of difficulties. Of course, I give all credit to God, whom, I sincerely believe helped me. After all, could a child with average intelligence, like me, on my own be an overcomer?

I didn't ask but God in His mercy, gave me a "miracle" - not quite like what Jesus did with the 2 loaves and 5 fishes - but - nevertheless, a miracle all the same. Amen.