Chen Yu

I was making my way home one day. Fatigued, shoulders – drooping, eyes – sleepy, hair -  unruly, when I noticed Chen Yu walking next to his mother. He had a gleam in his eye and a skip in his step. No care, no worry, no teacher who seemed to speak gibberish in that weird language called English, no problem sums or books to read. He was with his mum and there, in that moment, he was happy.

In class, he was a quiet boy, well behaved and well-liked among his peers. Primarily because of the language barrier, he never participated much in class discussions. I never saw him so enthused apart from that day and looking at him jump around as both mother and son made their way home, lifted my spirits in a way nothing did that day.

A few weeks later, I saw him lying there on that cold, hard bed of the ICU ward in NUH. Tubes at every corner, machines beeping at timed intervals. At that very instant, my heart sank. Here was a boy so innocent, so fragile fighting for his life and I’m sure he fought hard for his parents, his family, his friends and everyone who prayed for him. He was a brave boy, courageous, determined and always willing.

His demise has impacted me a great deal. To know that he will never occupy that chair in the front left hand corner of the 2/7 classroom will always bring me heartache but I’ll always remember him as the boy who skipped by his mother’s side who brought hope, joy and love to me and I’m sure, many others in his life.

Chen Yu, 2/7 and I miss you and we love you. We know you’ll always be with us in spirit. Happy Children’s Day.