My Father My Hero

My earliest memory of a conversation with my father was probably when I was 5 years old. It was a sunny Saturday morning, my brothers and I were being babysat by my dearest grandma at my uncle's shophouse @ No. 3, Jalan Lumut.

Growing up with many cousins, there was peer pressure and there was a need to be like everyone else. My female cousins from my mother's side of the family are all very petite and pretty. I stood out as I looked very different from them, and in terms of size, they refer to me as fat. So I probably worried that I was not pretty like the rest of them.

That morning, when my father came to visit us (my father's shop is opposite my uncle's shop), I asked my father if I was pretty. My father told me that being pretty is not important. He said, "Being smart is so much more important than being pretty."

I thank my father for his wisdom, foresight and most of all, for being my father.