A pilgrimage to the Feast of St. Anne was always a humbling experience. Even when I was a kid, I was awed by simply being there. The sight of the quaint little church atop the hillock exuded a sense of serenity that soothed my little heart. I did not understand what it was all about then. What I remember most from those times were the small packets of salt and pepper wrapped in paper that were given away. There was also the smell of burning candles and the unmistakable fragrance of jasmine and a potpourri of other flowers inside the church. The lingering smell in my nostrils long after made me happy.

Peter and I journeyed to the Church of St. Anne in Bukit Mertajam last Friday. Like the years before, the hallowed ground still cast the same sense of tranquillity even though it was abuzz with pilgrims and worshippers and brightly-lit stalls selling a multitude of items. Wuan could not make it this year. Most of all, without Mum and the boxes of devotional candles and flowers that she used to bring for the feast, it felt different.

For more than twenty years, after I became wheelchair-bound, I have not been into the old church on the hill. The steps leading to it was simply too daunting. I did not know that there was a paved path leading to a side entrance. Therefore it was a pleasant surprise when Peter pushed me up the steep slope passing the St. Anne�s Water Fonts and into the church. And the memories came rushing back. It was awesome. Never once did I think I would ever get into that church again but there I was. Salt and pepper were no longer being given away. I was happy to be able to go back after so many years nevertheless.

All too soon, we had to leave. I said a silent prayer and made the Sign of the Cross, the first time I ever did that inside the church as a Christian. Despite the melancholy I felt earlier, it was like being home again after a long time away. I was truly happy. I pray that I will be able to make the annual pilgrimage for many many more years to come. As long as I am able, I will carry on the tradition that Mum had started a long time ago.

Related entry:
Feast of St. Anne 2004

Among my many aversions, preachers and people who ask obvious questions about my disabilities top the list. Where possible, I always responded in an abrupt but tactful manner. Questions like �Can�t you stand up and walk?� annoyed me no end because it was apparent I could not. Why would I be using a wheelchair for the past twenty years if I could walk? An incident involving those two topics got me all flustered just now. The following conversation was originally in Hokkien.

“Can you stand up and walk?”

“No.”

“Can you bend your legs? Are they all stiff?”

I did not answer.

“Do you believe in the Christ?”

“Yes.”

“Where is your church?”

“Green Lane.”

“What denomination is that?’

“Roman Catholicism.”

“That is not Christianity.”

“What do you mean not Christianity?”

“You do not worship Jesus.”

“Who told you that? I am a Christian!”

“That is not Christianity.”

That was where I lost it. I told him not to put down someone else’s belief to glorify his. I must have raised my voice a little as my neighbours who were chatting among themselves beside me suddenly became silent. There are many things that I will compromise and tolerate but where my faith is concerned, I will not take a slight like that without having my say.

“I am a Protestant. We believe in Jesus Christ.”

I ignored him.

“We pray for the sick and the lame. Does your church do that?”

He asked a few more questions but I continued to ignore him. After a while, he must have sensed that I was extremely annoyed and quietly walked away. Immediately after that, a sense of guilt overcame me. I wished I had been tactful like I have always been when dealing with such situations. Perhaps he had meant well in trying to get me to his church for those healing prayer sessions. However, the one thing that saddens me most is how professed followers of the Christ can put down the belief another follower in such an insolent manner.

Related entry:
The Things People Say

This commandment, while seemingly simple, is one that is extremely difficult to obey when one has a neighbour like mine. After an uneventful journey back from Kuala Lumpur, I got home to discover my neighbour had used one of a pair of Mum’s glazed flower pots to plant chillies. There were other normal clay pots there but he had to use the nicest.

When I saw his father, I told him he could use my other pots but not that particular one. He was very amicable and said he will get the plants transferred soon. His daughter, the owner of the apartment, came out and started to be abusive, accusing me of being a calculative neighbour. She said they have just planted the chillies and have used my pot because I was not around and the pot was empty.

While she was screaming outside, I turned my back to her and continued surfing. A short while later, still screaming, she dumped the glazed pot outside my door and said she does not want to use the other pot too. I turned back to look at her briefly and continued to surf, ignoring her and the two pots she left outside. That must have annoyed her more as I could hear her hurling more insults outside in between talking loudly to her brother.

As if that was not enough, she dragged a water tank that had been used as a planter from another part of the common corridor and positioned it just outside our entrances. My guess is that she had hoped to inconvenience me when I needed to go out. That did not work. I could manoeuvre my wheelchair with little difficulty to get out.

I could never imagine how petty some people can get. They dragged another pot to create a wider obstruction when it was obvious that their tactic was not working. I have not gone out yet. Tomorrow perhaps. I have been very patient until now because I do not want to create an air of enmity with people I have to meet everyday. However, if my safety is compromised because of those obstructions, I definitely will take action through the proper channels against these people. In the meantime, I pray that they will see the error of their ways and remove the obstructions which are also inconveniencing themselves.

All this over a flower pot. Unimaginable. I am glad there is a set of mores to guide me during times like these. Religion really does change a person for the better. I normally would have screamed back. I did not this time, not since I accepted Jesus into my life. Thank God for that.

Church of St. Anthony, Jalan Robertson, Kuala Lumpur.
Photo by Wuan.

Two Sundays ago, we went to pray the Mass at the Church of St. Anthony at Jalan Robertson. The church is right across the road from Tung Shin Hospital. Mass was celebrated at the Dewan Dominic of the Kuala Lumpur Archdiocesan Pastoral Centre. This building is right behind the church. That Sunday was the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ. We were fortunate that we arrived early as the hall was packed to the brim when Mass commenced.

Dewan Dominic, Archdiocesan Pastoral Centre.

The Last Supper Artwork at the Altar.
Photo by Wuan.

Kuala Lumpur Archdiocesan Pastoral Centre.

Grotto, Church of St. Anthony

Church of St. Anthony.
Photo by Wuan.

Tung Shin Hospital, KL Tower in the background.

Papal crucifix on my rosary.
Photo by Wuan.

�That could be the work of the devil,� someone said to me when I related to her about how I came to accept God into my life.

After what I saw that fateful night, nothing anyone said could have changed my conviction that there beyond doubt is a Supreme Being, one that represents all things holy and pure from where all things come. For one who never had faith in the Almighty for thirty seven years, that about turn was astounding. All the years of denying and fighting simply melted away. For once, I was overwhelmed by a consummate tranquillity that I have never experienced before.

If that indeed was Satan�s ploy, he lost me because it was exactly that revelation that tipped me over to the other side. Nevertheless, anything as beautiful as what I saw can never be from the nether regions. The bliss that overcame me those few minutes was sufficient to convince me that it was the embodiment of absolute goodness that can only originate from above. Come what may, this journey is one that I will persist on. I have seen the Light. There is no looking back now.