IF you were a primary school student, you’d likely prefer bright, sunny days. Essays look better with the sun, rather than the rain or the clouds. I, on the other hand, prefer rainy days. The temperature is more agreeable and the bed cozier.
The only time the rain is rotten is when you slip and fall and fracture your foot. That’s when you just want to say: “Rain, rain, go away, please don’t show up on my birthday!”
But this was exactly what Mister Rain did on April 18th last year when I turned nine. He was brooding most of the day. He rained when I woke up, when I went to school, when I finished school, and when my mother and I picked up a nine-inch six-layered rainbow cake at my favorite cake shop at Yew Tee Point.
Picking up the cake was fun, but going home with it was not. It didn’t help that my mom had a super-small umbrella that day. The moment we cleared the entrance of the mall walking towards home, I was fussing over my cake box. I didn’t want it to get wet, and so I held it in front of me. Walking in this way caused my mom to fidget. She kept pulling me close, but I kept inching backwards.
Soon, the insides of my Crocs started getting stupidly slippery and the two big toes were working doubly hard to grip the thongs. At each new stride, my slippers made a funny squeak that sounded quite rude. One moment I was walking, the next I felt something like a snap, a twitch, in my right ankle. I buckled, tumbled sideways, hugging the cake box. Mommy, on my left, gasped and reached out to grab my arm. Alas, too late!
Poor me! Poorer still, my cake box! It was bruised out of shape, and oh, my cake, my poor smooshed cake! Goodbye cake, I cried. We could well have picked up another box, but we didn’t. There was a sharp, shooting pain in my right ankle. We zipped right off to the Ng Teng Fong Hospital at Jurong East. I didn’t get my cake, but all I got was a rotten cast and two crutches for six whole weeks.
That must be the most memorable birthday ever.
Faith Yang, Primary Four
For more essays by Faith, visit Faith Writes.
This essay was written in response to three boxed pictures:
- a gift box
- a foot in a cast
- a bird’s eye view of a pedestrian with an umbrella, walking a rain-slicked pavement