Chung Lern and Nian Ning’s families would like all families and friends of the victims, dead or alive, in the Slim River Bus Crash to come forward and join them in taking action against the bus company. Stand up to seek justice for these three innocent individuals, who were all so young and full of life.
If you have a blog, please call out to ANYONE who knows someone who survived or did not survive the crash to come forward to join the Lee family.
Make a huge difference, make a huge fuss.
For now, you may contact Lee Chung Lern at chunglern@gmail.com or preferably on his handphone at 012-6670368.
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For those who had no idea what that was about, especially people overseas, you can read about it here:
http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2008/1/28/nation/20146099&sec=nation&focus=1
I really, really, really didn't get it. Inevitably, the "why" question comes into play everytime something like this happens.
Mark told me this, "God chose an innocent buddhist girl to stir the hearts of many."
The last thing Mark said really impacted me-
"The mercy of God is greater... than anything we could ever imagine."
I reread this chapter in Rilla of Ingleside written by LM Montgomery- the last book in the 7-book series Anne of Green Gables.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A letter came from Walter's commanding officer, telling them that he had
been killed instantly by a bullet during a charge at Courcelette. The same
day there was a letter for Rilla from Walter himself.
Rilla carried it unopened to Rainbow Valley and read it there, in the
spot where she had had her last talk with him. It is a strange thing to
read a letter after the writer is dead--a bitter-sweet thing, in which
pain and comfort are strangely mingled. For the first time since the
blow had fallen Rilla felt--a different thing from tremulous hope and
faith--that Walter, of the glorious gift and the splendid ideals, still
lived, with just the same gift and just the same ideals. That could not
be destroyed--these could suffer no eclipse. The personality that had
expressed itself in that last letter, written on the eve of Courcelette,
could not be snuffed out by a German bullet. It must carry on, though
the earthly link with things of earth were broken.
"We're going over the top tomorrow, Rilla-my-Rilla," wrote Walter. "I
wrote mother and Di yesterday, but somehow I feel as if I must write you
tonight. I hadn't intended to do any writing tonight--but I've got to.
Do you remember old Mrs. Tom Crawford over-harbour, who was always
saying that it was 'laid on her' to do such and such a thing? Well, that
is just how I feel. It's 'laid on me' to write you tonight--you, sister
and chum of mine. There are some things I want to say before--well,
before tomorrow...
...And Rilla, I'm not afraid. When you hear the news, remember that. I've won
my own freedom here--freedom from all fear. I shall never be afraid of
anything again--not of death--nor of life, if after all, I am to go on
living. And life, I think, would be the harder of the two to face--for
it could never be beautiful for me again. There would always be such
horrible things to remember--things that would make life ugly and
painful always for me. I could never forget them. But whether it's life
or death, I'm not afraid, Rilla-my-Rilla, and I am not sorry that I
came. I'm satisfied. I'll never write the poems I once dreamed of
writing--but I've helped to make Canada safe for the poets of the
future--for the workers of the future--ay, and the dreamers, too--for
if no man dreams, there will be nothing for the workers to fulfil--the
future, not of Canada only but of the world--when the 'red rain' of
Langemarck and Verdun shall have brought forth a golden harvest--not in
a year or two, as some foolishly think, but a generation later, when the
seed sown now shall have had time to germinate and grow. Yes, I'm glad I
came, Rilla. It isn't only the fate of the little sea-born island I love
that is in the balance--nor of Canada nor of England. It's the fate of
mankind. That is what we're fighting for. And we shall win--never for a
moment doubt that, Rilla. For it isn't only the living who are fighting
--the dead are fighting too. Such an army cannot be defeated.
Is there laughter in your face yet, Rilla? I hope so. The world will
need laughter and courage more than ever in the years that will come
next...
this letter to her and tell her it's really meant for you both--you two dear, fine loyal girls. Tomorrow, when we go over the top--I'll think of you both--of your laughter, Rilla-my-Rilla, and the steadfastness in Una's blue eyes--somehow I see those eyes very plainly tonight, too.Yes, you'll both keep faith--I'm sure of that--you and Una. Andso--goodnight. We go over the top at dawn."
"I will keep faith, Walter," she said steadily. "I will work--and teach
--and learn--and laugh, yes, I will even laugh--through all my years,
because of you and because of what you gave when you followed the call."
Rilla meant to keep Walter's letter as a a sacred treasure. But, seeing
the look on Una Meredith's face when Una had read it and held it back to
her, she thought of something. Could she do it? Oh, no, she could not
give up Walter's letter--his last letter. Surely it was not selfishness
to keep it. A copy would be such a soulless thing. But Una--Una had so
little--and her eyes were the eyes of a woman stricken to the heart,
who yet must not cry out or ask for sympathy.
"Una, would you like to have this letter--to keep?" she asked slowly.
"Yes--if you can give it to me," Una said dully.
"Then--you may have it," said Rilla hurriedly.
"Thank you," said Una. It was all she said, but there was something in
her voice which repaid Rilla for her bit of sacrifice.
Una took the letter and when Rilla had gone she pressed it against her
lonely lips. Una knew that love would never come into her life now--it
was buried for ever under the blood-stained soil "Somewhere in France."
No one but herself--and perhaps Rilla--knew it--would ever know it.
She had no right in the eyes of her world to grieve. She must hide and
bear her long pain as best she could--alone. But she, too, would keep
faith.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~It brings me to tears every time to read this chapter. Who do you sympathise with most? Una? Rilla? Walter? Some would say poor *substitute name of favourite character*...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Pore, pore Walter," sighed Mrs. Reese.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Do not you come here calling him poor Walter," said Susan indignantly,
appearing in the kitchen door, much to the relief of Rilla, who felt
that she could endure no more just then. "He was not poor. He was richer
than any of you. It is you who stay at home and will not let your sons
go who are poor--poor and naked and mean and small--pisen poor, and so
are your sons, with all their prosperous farms and fat cattle and their
souls no bigger than a flea's--if as big."
Guess it all boils down to priorities. It often takes an incident like this to wake us up from our folly. It is what we do after the incident that determines whether she has died in vain (I'm saying this at the risk of being called a hypocrite). Have we learnt?
I think as teenagers, we probably know better than any age group the art of procrastination, because we think we have our whole life ahead of us.
"I'll apologise to her tomorrow."
"Not now God, I'll share when I'm really ready."
"Maybe we'll get back together in the future."
"I'm too busy now Mum, maybe another day?"
"I'll post up that post about Nian Ning's family asking for help some other day."
I read her blog post Sometimes When We Touch, and my heart aches. This song once meant so much to me, and knowing that she once felt the same way I did... I can't adequately say how it makes me feel.
Then I read her blog post entitled Someday, and my heart feels like breaking. Did the person whom she meant the posts for know she meant it for him/her? Argh...And it just occurred to me- if you knew that you were to die tomorrow, would you be a better person and/or Christian today? So often people think that they have years and years before them, that there's no need to decide which god to believe in now, but sometimes there isn't... You think you have all the time in the world to share, but sometimes there isn't...
Today today it's all or nothing
Today today I live for one thing
To give you praise in everything I do
One of my favourite quotes:
"The saddest words of tongue or pen are these- 'it might have been'..."
Your call. Today.
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"You didn't share the bitterness.
Sharing means you lessen it...
You replicated it..."
........................
I'm sorry. That was never my intention.
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