Mean what I pray

Every night, I prayed with Clarissa that she would grow up to be a God fearing woman, who serves Him, and I meant every word that I prayed…at least, I thought I did.

A few days ago, I was looking through Clarissa’s homework. Apart from the unusually difficult Chinese, she had to juggle with the unreasonably high-standard Malay being taught in her school. At home, I would encourage her to read English books and write English essays. For a nine year old, I thought that having to cope with 3 first languages was quite a mountainous task. To make matter worst, we don’t speak a word of Malay at home. Therefore, she would have to literally memorize every Malay word that she learnt in school. One big chunk of my heart really goes out to her.

However one day, she told me excitedly, “Mum, I have been selected to distribute food vouchers in school!” At the back of my mind, I thought she was already doing enough for the school by being the cleanliness officer in her class. This meant that she would be spending almost every recess in her class, with little or no opportunity to play in the field. “What? But you are only distributing the food vouchers for your class right?” I asked, without sounding overly bothered. “No, I am actually distributing it for the entire school!” May I add here that her school comprises of 18 classes, sprawling over three buildings, one of which is three-storey high! The food vouchers are distributed to students who come from poor family background and entitled the bearer to free meals in the canteen.

“Where do you find time to do this and how long would you take to distribute all the vouchers?” I asked worriedly. “Well, I do it during my Malay class and unlike my friend who took 40 minutes, I took only 20 minutes!” she replied proudly. “What? You are already struggling with your Malay, now with 20 minutes less Malay a day, you are bound to have difficulties!” I couldn’t hide my dismay, much as I tried. In fact, I began to rehearse at the back of my mind, my lines to her class teacher to persuade her to appoint someone else for this duty. “Oh mum, don’t worry! I have everything under control! To ensure that I don’t miss anything, I would ask my classmates upon my return. Moreover, I think I am down to do this only twice a week.” She replied reassuringly.

For the next couple of days, I struggled with this. I just couldn’t bear the thought of my poor girl running around the school with food vouchers in her hand, and missing Malay class. Finally, this morning during my quiet time, I felt a still small voice telling me “Fee, why are you sad that Clarissa is serving me? Do you think that it is more important for her to obey you or for her to do what I have chosen for her?” I felt ashamed that I had forgotten that Clarissa was in fact doing a meaningful work. Without food vouchers timely delivered, the underprivileged kids would not be able to enjoy their free meals. Afterall, I should learn to release her to do God’s work as I have prayed daily. Thank you Heavenly Father for your timely reminder.