HI There 😊
This is my submission for First Writing Challenge by @celfmagazine . Out of the 3 themes given, I have decided to go with Fairy Tales - a theme about childhood stories. You can find out more about it here. As I am doing this just minutes before the deadline, I am going to get right into it.
My growing up years was bordering on poverty (I'm downplaying it). We lived in a government flat where rental was very cheap, and no surprise the space was very small. The whole apartment was smaller than 500 sqf and living in there, Grandmother, 2 Uncles, 4 Aunties, my brother and I.
The reason my brother and I lived with my Grandmother in a different state (the one my mother's from) is because my parents believed education would be better there compared to the small town they were living in. Later when my sister started going to school, my mum moved in too with my two younger siblings (that gave her an opportunity to work in Singapore but that's a story for another day).
So, growing up we really didn't have toys, we played outdoors mostly, and even movies were few and far in between because we needed to prioritise. Just to give you an idea, we had an allocation of the tithe collected at church. So in a nutshell, the priorities were food, bills, school and rent.
Sure sometimes I'd want more than what I had but I wasn't too fussed about it. I had my books and stories to keep me company. I loved reading and day dreaming. I read every Enid Blyton storybook I could get my hands on. There were also The Grimm Brothers, Hans Christian Anderson, Tales of Arabian Nights and more. Once done with all the kids' books I could get, I swiftly moved on to adult fiction my first adult book was Roots when I was 10 years old. Yes, I loved reading. I devoured books. I'd either borrow them from the library, or just stand at the bookstore in big shopping malls where they didn't chase you away, and would sit in a corner and read.
So with all this reading, came imagination. I have gathered my siblings and tried solving (non-existent) mysteries. Our club house was in the roof (yes, not attic, we don't have attics in Malaysia). My father actually got us a very tall ladder that reached the roof and advised us to stay on the beams. I would climb Mango Trees, sit there for hours day dreaming, and sometimes playing make-believe with my brother. Life was relatively good.
Stories have a way of making you want to explore. The stories in my head intertwined and separated. Sometimes many would become one, sometime one would become many. But for this particular incident, 3 different stories/believes rolled into one big dream.
An Enid Blyton story about a magic pencil that could draw anything into real life. So the little girl who found the pencil drew dresses and then would wear them for real. There was the story of the Magic Porridge Pot. And to add to this was Catholicism and the believe of "ask and you shall receive." All of this twisted and became one big idea. A magic wallet. One that would never run out of money. Every time I took out money, it would miraculously replenish. I wasn't entirely sure what I would do with all that money, but it was a very exciting day dream.
We had one bunk bed in that one tiny room, and lucky me got to sleep on top. It was very hot up there because the one fan we had never reached me. So I'd toss and turn, and this gave me plenty of time for wishing and hoping and "asking" for this magic wallet. One day, while turning I knocked the alter that was on a cupboard right beside the bunk bed. I got up to adjust my position when lo and behold, I spotted my magic wallet.
I couldn't believe my eyes. I slowly took it and when I opened it, there were so many 1 ringgit notes. My prayers had been answered. Ask and you shall receive. So I took 2 notes. At the back of my mind I knew it wasn't right, but I wanted so badly to believe in miracles that I kept on taking 2 notes every night.
RM2 for a child in the 70's was a lot of money, especially for one who had to decide if she would use her 15 cents allowance to buy something to eat for break or take the bus to school. RM2 is 15 cents times a lot. I would buy my friends sweets and stationary. For those few days, I was beyond happy.
It didn't last very long and soon enough I was found out. I was questioned, I tried to lie, it didn't work and I was punished. Stealing and lying were not tolerated, but of course and I got a thorough beating. This is back in the day, when the cane was never spared.
That's a story I have kept with me for a long time. For even though the setting wasn't ideal, maybe I should have been more specific with my Intent, I did in a strange way get that magic wallet. And I think I have never believed in something as unquestionably as I did when I was wishing for that magic wallet. And that brings me to the end of my story.
All images taken with my trusty iPhone 7 Plus, edited with my favourite apps Photofox & FontMania
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